Search for Sanity
by Ahmanduhz
Summary: Sometimes I felt crazy. Or maybe I hated myself so much I just wished I was crazy. And then I met her.
1. Part 1: Back in Town

_"Do you ever wonder whether people would like you more or less if they could see inside you? …I always wonder about that. If people could see me the way I see myself—if they could live in my memories—would anyone love me?"_  
_-John Green _

**Part 1**

**Chapter 1: Back in Town**

The last few years of my life had been weird, living in a routine until it was interrupted and then having to dig out another one in another place. But this time, it was interrupted to return to the place that it had began. My hometown. Moving generated the transformations I don't think ever would have happened had the move not happened.

It was weird being back in Lima. I had been there since we moved, of course, visiting once in a while, but this time it was different – I was back to stay. I had wanted it, the memories of my happiness calling me back. I just hoped I wouldn't be disappointed.

The movers had cleared out so I was left with my mom, my step-dad Antonio, and a house full of boxes. We moved back into my old house; a two story with four bedrooms, two of which lead out to a balcony. Instead of going back to my old room, though, I took my brother's, which was the second of the two that lead out to the balcony.

I had only made it through about two boxes when my mom appeared. I really hated un/packing.

"Ready for a break?" she asked. I sighed and pushed my things to the side.

"Yeah," I said.

"We're going out for dinner" - I stood up from the floor – "meet us at the truck," she said. I grabbed my things and turned off the light before making my way downstairs.

I sat in the back of the truck like always, hearing but not really listening to my mom and Antonio as they talked. My phone buzzed in my pocket; a text from Quinn.

**Quinn:**_ Hey! You coming over tomorrow?_

**Me:**_ Yeah, around lunch?_

**Quinn:**_ Sounds good_

It didn't take long for us to reach the restaurant at the top of the hill because the town is so small. We entered Breadstix and got seated in a booth at the middle booth at the center of the room. I sat by myself facing the kitchen while my mom and Antonio sat together on the other side. (Antonio had this thing where he would never sit with his back to the door.) The server came and put a basket of bread sticks in the middle of the table before taking our drink orders. Out of the things I'd missed from Lima, Breadstix was definitely one of them. You just couldn't get bread sticks like theirs anywhere else.

I ate too many, of course, because I always did. I had eaten nearly half of them by the time we ordered our food. I was on my, say, sixth one when I saw them; those eyes: incredible blue oceans. But as soon as I met them, I looked away. I nibbled on my bread stick, looking at the table. My eyes shifted; they wanted to look. I wanted to look so bad but I kept myself focused on the table.

That is until I found myself looking and the bread stick just lying in my hand. I knew that my ordinary browns were nothing to her magnificent blues, and I had never really done eye contact – it's just too weird – but I couldn't look away. They had me trapped, and I believed I could look at them forever. Somehow, I just knew they held so much.

"Santana," Antonio said loudly. I jumped slightly and my head snapped his way. He raised an eyebrow and I looked down to see a plate of pasta. "Gonna eat anytime tonight?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, grabbing my fork.

The next time I looked up, I saw her walking out.

The rest of the night was boring. We went back home, I cleared a spot and set up my new bed, changed, and collapsed, ready for sleep to take over.

* * *

"Mija, are you going to get up?" my mom asked. I buried my face farther into my pillow, grumbling. "I thought you were going to your friend's?"

I turned my head to look her way. "-time is it?"

"Almost twelve." When she left, I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. I passed the mirror, refusing to look at it as I headed for the toilet. I brushed my hair and threw on some clothes before shuffling downstairs.

I stopped in the doorway of the office. Mom was on her computer and Antonio was looking through some papers.

"Buenos días," Antonio greeted.

Mom turned around and smiled at me. "Are you leaving?" she asked.

I nodded and answered, "Yeah."

"Have fun," she said, turning back to her computer. "And be safe."

"I will." I turned around and headed for the side door. I opened the door but before I could step out, Antonio called, "¡Ten cuidado!" I closed the door behind me and made my way past the truck to my car. It was still fairly new because I had gotten it shortly before we moved. The black 2012 Chevy Camaro quickly became my favorite possession. I had always loved driving, it was calming in a way nothing else had ever been; it gives you something to pay attention to, with a little bit of room to still think.

The sound of the radio came soon after I turned the key. I backed out of the driveway and turned to go down the street before reaching for the dial and turning the volume up. The sound of the road may be nice, but the sound of music is always better. It's a must while driving.

The drive to Quinn's was about fifteen minutes. She lived in an even smaller town that was really only known for its lake. Her parents ran a hotel and the marina down at the lake; their house was by the hotel.

I parked at the side of the house next to the sidewalk, remembering how Quinn and I used to run around and play our games. I made my way to the front door and knocked. It didn't take long for the door to open and reveal the smiling face of Judy Fabray. "Santana, hey!" she greeted.

"Hey," I said.

"Come on in," she said, pulling me in for a hug. I stayed still with my arms to my side, waiting out the awkward hug. "It's great to see you." She ushered me farther in before closing the door. It didn't take long for me to spot Quinn in the living room to the right. She jumped up from the couch.

"Hey!" she said, making her way over to me. She pulled me in for a quick hug and then we moved over to the couches, her sitting back in her spot from before I walked in and me taking a seat on the couch opposite the window.

That's when I noticed the other person in the room for the first time. Light blue jeans with a gap – that I found myself looking at for too long – before a plain white shirt. My eyes trailed up to the straight blonde hair and pale face. It dawned on me then, when I saw those shining blue eyes, that it was the girl from Breadstix. And like then, I found myself lost in looking. When a smile broke out on her face, I found something almost as amazing as her eyes.

"Hi," she spoke. Her voice was sweet and matched her perfectly.

"H-ey," I said.

"Santana, this is Brittany," Quinn said. "Brittany, Santana."

"I thought you looked familiar," Brittany said. Quinn looked at her for a moment and then said, "I told you she was coming over."

"Oh, I meant the other night." I was surprised she remembered, especially because I was just some stranger that was pretty much staring at her while she was trying to eat her dinner. Nonetheless, I felt my lips tug up into a small smile.

"The other night?" Quinn questioned, sounding a little annoyed she was having to ask for a further explanation.

"I saw her at Breadstix," I informed.

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere," Brittany said before Quinn could get a word out. "Quinn showed me the picture in her room of you." It didn't take me long to remember the small oval picture frame that held a picture of my twelve or thirteen year old self. The thought of her seeing me like that made my cheeks burn.

"Thanks, Q," I grumbled. She knew I hated that picture.

"It's a good picture," she laughed.

"Are you girls ready to go?" Quinn's mom called. Before I could ask, Quinn explained, "We're going over to my mom's friend's house." So we abandoned the couch and piled into her mom's van. Q called shotgun so I sat behind her and Brittany sat behind Quinn's mom.

We pulled up to a small house and Brittany and Quinn opened their doors. Instead of opening my own, I decided to move over and crawl out Brittany's. I closed the door behind me and Quinn's mom gave me a smile as she stepped out. When we got inside, I recognized a few of the girls but not any of the adults. One of the women told us to get anything we wanted as we entered the kitchen.

There was drinks and a few snacks around, so I moved along with the others to get food. I grabbed some chips and dip and headed for the drinks.

"That's all you're getting?" Brittany asked, pouring herself a cup of Dr Pepper as I grabbed a bottle of water. I shrugged and answered, "Yeah."

She walked to the table with me and then snatched a chip from my plate before we parted and she took a seat at the table. Some others sat next to her and I continued on to sit at the other side of the table. Brittany looked my way, smiling. She popped the chip in her mouth and then looked to the girl next to her.

I spent the next half hour or so eating my chips and trying not to look at Brittany as I played with the paper plate. I failed with the latter; my eyes continued to drift to her, darting away when she caught me.

My mind suddenly tuned in to the conversation as everyone started standing up. I looked over at Quinn in confusion.

"Come on, we're gonna go play rock band," she told me.

I stood up and followed her through the house to what I guessed was the living room. I took a seat on the couch and watched as one of the girls began to pull out the guitar, drums, keyboard, and microphone.

Brittany sat behind the drums and Quinn took the mic. The game started and I watched Brittany attack the drums, glancing at the screen every once in awhile._ She's good_, I thought. They all seemed so into it and when the song ended, there were a few low cheers (Brittany among them) and they began to switch around.

"Do you wanna play, San?" Quinn asked.

"No thanks," I said. Truth is, I kind of did want to. But I didn't because I didn't want to risk the potential happening of embarrassment. So I just sat.

Brittany and Quinn traded places and instead of staying on the drums, my eyes followed Brittany. I wondered if she could sing. The song started and she slowly tapped her side. She lifted the mic to her lips, and I was met with the pleasant surprise of her low hum.

"_Come over here."_

Her hips started to sway as some of the others played their selected instruments.

"_So slide over here_

_And give me a moment_

_Your moves are so raw_

_I've got to let you know_

_I've got to let you know"_

There was never a time I had been so memorized by another person. Her hips seemed to rock in perfect motion, and I had a feeling she was, or could be, an amazing dancer. She began to spin, and soon enough she was facing away from the tv and instead looking in my direction. My eyes ran over her saccharine smile before I met her eyes.

"_You're one of my kind"_

She winked, possibly at me because everyone else was playing an instrument, and let out a high pitched "_Oh_" as she continued her spin.

"_There's something about you girl_

_That makes me sweat"_

Suddenly, the game stopped.

"Uh, we should pick a different song," Quinn said. "I think this is a little inappropriate."

Brittany's nose scrunched a little and she began to giggle; the others laughed a little. I knew Quinn didn't really have a problem with "inappropriate" music, but it was understandable to not want your mother to hear you listening to it, or your friend singing it. They switched around again, but this time I couldn't find Brittany._ Where did she go?_ The couch slumped beside me and I looked over and there she was. She smiled.

"Why are you sitting here alone?" she asked. She was sitting a little close and smelled of sweet cotton candy, but smelling her was much better than smelling actual cotton candy could ever be. Her knee touched mine and I glanced down.

"I'm watching," I answered. I could feel her eyes on me, so I looked up. Our eyes connect briefly, but I looked away. There was something about her eyes that just made me want to look. But with her sitting right there, so close, when I was sure she was looking at me, too, I couldn't.

"You don't want to play?" she questioned.

I shrugged. "Nah."

"Okay," she said, leaning back into the couch. "I'll sit with you." I glanced back at her and she smiled again. She had a charming smile.

"You can relax, you know," she said.

"I am relaxed," I said, avoiding her eyes. It was a complete lie.

She laughed. "Okay."

I wanted to be annoyed with her, wanted to snap at her for talking and make her go away, but I couldn't. I was actually a little disappointed that she stopped. I looked forward to watch the others play. But I couldn't focus on them, really. My mind was filled with too many thoughts._ Why is she sitting by me? Did she want to sit by me, or is she just taking a break? Of course she doesn't want to sit with you, idiot. Why the hell would she want to?_ I glanced back at her and she lifted her eyes and smiled at me. I quickly faced forward. Her knee was still touching mine.

"'To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing,'" she whispered after a few minutes. "Elbert Hubbard."_ What?_ I looked at her from the corner of my eye. Was she trying to tell me that she thought I was trying to "be nothing" to "avoid criticism"? Maybe I was, but what did she know about me? I mean, we'd barely known each other for a few hours. Just because I didn't want to make a fool of myself I was "being nothing"?

* * *

It was starting to get dark by the time we got back to Quinn's house. Her mom disappeared and we went to sit around in the living room.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Quinn asked.

"No," I answered._ Of course not._

She smiled and said, "What do you think about getting together with some of the others? We've all missed you." I rolled my eyes at that, but it didn't stop the small smile from appearing as I said, "Yeah, sure, that sounds cool."

"I've heard a lot of stories about you," Brittany said. "I'm really glad I finally met you." Before I could say something, feasibly moronic, Quinn spoke up.

"Well, including you, some people like to sleep until lunch, so how about we just meet in town around one?" she said.

"Can we go to McDonald's?" Brittany asked. Quinn and I agreed and then I decided it was time to make my departure because I still needed to go see my dad.

Brittany and Quinn followed me out to my car, Brittany commenting, "It's really hot. It totally fits you." Quinn gave me a light hug and then Brittany jumped in front of me with a big smile. She pulled me in for a hug and her smell of sweet cotton candy instantly surrounded me. I carefully moved my arms to hug her back, closing my eyes momentarily at the feel. There was this girl I barely met hugging me, and it was the best I'd ever had. Little did I know, there was many more to come. I was sad that it ended, but when I saw her smile, I couldn't help but return it.

I drove back into town and to my dad's house. The porch light was on. I parked behind his car and made my way to the front door. I opened it slowly, poking my head in slightly before I stepped in. I heard the tv first, and then saw Eva, my dad's girlfriend, on the couch; she looked back at me as I pushed the door closed.

"Hey Santana," she said.

"Hey," I replied, and then glanced to the right, where the kitchen was, due to hearing a noise. Said noise happened to be my dad.

"Mija!" he exclaimed, smiling joyously as he padded over to me.

"Hey, papá," I said. He had a spatula in one hand, so I figured out he was cooking something. He pulled me into a tight bear hug and I laughed a little as he finally pulled away.

"You're here!" he said. "I've missed you, sweetheart."

"Yeah, me too." He put his free hand on the back of my head, pulling me forward a little and kissed the top of my head.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, signaling I follow him to the kitchen. "Supper is almost ready." He stirred the contents of the skillet, which happened to be Spanish rice. The only thing I had eaten was the chips and dip earlier, so I decided that eating something would be good.

I joined Eva on the couch while my dad finished cooking. She was watching some movie ("I don't remember," she said when I asked her the name) that looked kind of interesting. We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the movie.

"Do you still have a lot of packing to do?" Eva asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll get it done eventually." She chuckled.

My dad brought two plates out, handing one to each Eva and I. I pushed the food around with my fork a little until my dad joined us, sitting on the other side of Eva. I took my first bite.

"Have you talked to your brother?" my dad asked.

"Not since the other day," I said. I had a good relationship with my brother, but we didn't really talk much since we didn't live together. I figured, since we were back in Ohio and he only lived an hour away from Lima, I would be seeing him more often.

"I'm sure he'll be in town soon to see you all."

"Yeah, he said he'd be down to see us." We ate in (almost) silence for a few minutes, the tv and moving silverware providing the only sounds. I didn't mind, though, because it was comfortable.

"How was the trip down here?" Eva asked.

"Way too long," I said.

We talked aimlessly for a while as we finished our food, and then awhile after.

"Are you staying the night?" my dad asked.

"No," I said, "I think I'll head back to Mom's."

"Okay, but you'll come back tomorrow, right?"

"Tomorrow night. I'm hanging out with Quinn tomorrow."

"That's good. You don't need to spend your summer sitting around here with us," Eva said.

"You should bring her around sometime," my dad said. I laughed a little and agreed.

My dad followed me out to my car; we talked for about ten minutes before he let me go.

* * *

My mom and Antonio were in the living room when I got home, watching tv. I decided to forgo the family tv watching and climbed the stairs to my room. I collapsed to the bed and turned on the tv, changing channels until I landed on something mildly interesting. My eyes were set on the tv, but my mind began to roam. I thought over the move and then my day. My silence that brought me nothing and Brittany's words. Spending the day with my supposed best friend while managing to still feel like an outsider.

The thoughts rolled around in my head, repeating over and over again. I had such high expectations for being back, and though my day wasn't exactly bad, I lay there in my bed with the same feeling creeping over me – sucking me in and dulling me out while still making me feel horrible. A dull ache that had no explanation. I should have been used to it by then, but I wasn't.

I got up for my best solution and walked to the open suitcase with clothes spilling out. I quickly changed into shorts and then left the room.

I let the music boom in my ears as I ran down the street. My mind was racing, it wanted to think._ Run run run._ Despite my begging for a clear mind, I was granted no such miracle, and the thoughts slithered in. Focusing on running didn't help; focusing on the lyrics only distracted me momentarily, only to have my mind wander off, winding in and out of the thoughts I couldn't stop.

Eventually, though, my thoughts did begin to fade out and the music started taking over as I continued to run. I didn't know how long I was out there; how far I had gone; but when I got back home, I was exhausted. And, despite my extreme sweatyness, I didn't take a shower before I collapsed to my bed. I think it was the quickest I had ever fallen asleep.

* * *

**Buenos días = Good morning**

**¡Ten cuidado! = Be careful!**

* * *

**Any good?**

**Tell me what you think and I'll continue if you like!**

**Song: INXS - Need You Tonight**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Sadness After a Smile

**GoatAteMyMoney****: Santana's parents? Yes, they both live in Lima, just on opposite sides of town. As you will find out in this chapter, Santana's step dad (Antonio) got a job at the hospital.**

**Dominique van der Graaf: That's awesome to hear (read)! Hopefully you'll enjoy what's to come.**

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**BumbaMumbaJimJams: I'm glad you do! Next chapter should come a little quicker than this one did.**

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**kiwi2410: Hopefully the chapters to come don't disappoint.**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

I woke around eleven in the morning, still in my shirt and running shorts from yesterday, sprawled across the bed. After I put on some music, I decided to dig into some more boxes, further disarranging my room.

After an hour of unpacking, I rewarded myself with a long shower. It was 12:40pm by the time I was out and dressed.

"¡Espera!" Antonio called when I tread past the office. I backed up to the doorway to look at him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Lunch," I answered. He looked at me for a moment, said, "Okay," and then turned back around. I left.

I parked in the front of the building but there was no sign of Quinn's car. It was only a few minutes until I saw her pulling into the parking lot. She parked on the opposite side behind me; another car, or truck rather, pulled in and parked next to her. When I got out of the car I saw who was driving said truck: Mike. Upon spotting me, he smiled and waved. As I started making my way over, I took notice of the other occupants of the vehicle. It took me a minute to remember the name of the girl that exited the passenger side: Tina. We had brief conversations before, but never much. The two others that climbed out of the truck were Kurt, who I used to hang out with once in a while, and Rachel.

I saw Quinn rounding her car to join the others when I heard a soft giggle. My eyes immediately looked over to see Brittany. She caught my eyes and gave an odd grin. Before I could even look away and/or try to figure it out, I felt something hit my side. I would have fallen to my doom of the asphalt had the something not been a person. Said person's arms encircled me and I felt my feet leave the ground.

"¡Suéltame!" I hollered. I heard a laugh – a laugh I definitely recognized – and my demand was denied and the arms around me lightened before I was spun around. I heard more laughs – and that giggle turned into a laugh.

I felt my toes touch the ground, but before I could be returned to safety, my vision cleared and I saw Mike, with a huge smile, charge toward me. The arms abandoned me, but as soon as they did, I was in a new pair. Mike's laugh sounded loudly in my ear. He didn't spin but once, thankfully, and then I was returned to the ground. I turned to find my first attacker – Artie – and swung at his shoulder, but he ducked away.

"Nice to see you too," Artie laughed.

Mike draped an arm over my shoulder and said, "Let's go inside." Artie appeared at my other side, doing the same, and then Mike seemed to pull Quinn out of nowhere to drape his free arm around her, and we headed for the door. Obviously, a four person line does not fit through a door; we broke in half, Artie and I walking in first, him opening the second door and then Quinn and Mike passing us. When we reached the counter, Mike broke away from Quinn. He walked back a little to Tina, who he seemed to whisper something to and kiss on the cheek before heading off toward the bathroom.

"I'll take the usual," Artie said before breaking away from me and heading off for the bathroom. Not long after, I felt her at my side, but I didn't look. Not yet.

"Hey," Brittany said.

"Hey," I said, way too quietly. I glanced to the side then, also noticing Rachel head for the bathroom.

"Wanna find a table?" she asked.

"Okay," I answered.

"Happy meal," she told Quinn. "Nuggets."

Brittany smiled at me, I quickly said, "Same," and then let her pull me outside. Most of the tables were two-person tables, but there was two bigger ones to the left, by the fence. We walked over, but instead of sitting down, Brittany slipped her shoes off.

"Where are you going?" I asked when she started walking away. She stopped, turned, and looked at me.

"Isn't it obvious?" she questioned. I narrowed my eyes at her, and then glanced at the playground to her right.

"We're not supposed to," I said. "We're too old."

But she just continued to smile, and said, "Who's gonna stop us?" I smiled a little at that, but then my eyes shifted to the windows.

"People will think we're weird, or something." She looked at me for a moment, and I felt my breathing pick up slightly._ Why is she looking at me like that?_ I wanted to look away, because I still couldn't stand her looking straight at my eyes like that.

"'I like to be a free spirit. Some don't like that, but that's the way I am,'" she said. She grinned before adding, "Princess Diana."

I shook my head at her, but couldn't prevent the small smile tugging at my lips.

"Santana Marie, I'm going to run up those steps, and I'd like you to come with me." I glanced around; there were only two small kids playing around.

"Okay." She spun around on spot and skipped closer to the playground. I followed.

They were the kind of "stairs" that had one step on each side. She was fast, pulling herself up and twisting to do the same with the next step. Halfway up, I almost got kicked in the face. She stopped then, and tugged on my arm, pulling up to the step she was on. We went up the rest of the way side by side (I felt bad, because she slowed so she wouldn't leave me behind).

We turned right to go down the "tube" and ran into one of the kids. Brittany smiled and moved to the side. I stayed on my hands and knees, clueless. Brittany giggled and pulled me to the side, into her side, and we watched the kid pass. Brittany returned to her hands and knees and led us farther.

We went all the way to the end; the blue area with a bubble-type window. Brittany sat in the bubble, and I unintentionally grabbed onto her ankle. I couldn't rid the thought of it breaking – not that she was too heavy, but it could happen. She was happily safe, though, as she peered out into the parking lot. I moved slightly closer to look out with her, and we watched a few people walking around.

Suddenly, she turned to face me and her face was really close. Before I could react, she whispered,

"Thanks for keeping me safe."

"Wh-oh!" I said, snapping my hand back to my side. She giggled and I said, "Uh, slide?" She nodded and I turned, crawling back to the circle of the slide. I shuffled to put my feet forward. (My cheeks got really hot when I almost tripped, sitting down). The slide down was anti-climatic, seeing as I just stopped when I reached the bottom.

As I sat there, at the end of the slide, I saw Quinn walking out. She had a tray of food and when she looked up, she stopped.

"Really?" she said with an eyebrow raised. But before I could say anything, something slammed into my back. Something turned out to be a person, which happened to be Brittany. She sent both of us straight into the ground, me face first with her on top of me; my face was squished into the foam ground of the play-place with her stomach pressing into the back of my head. She lifted up slightly and I scrunched my face, trying to rid myself of the my-face-was-just-squashed-into-the-ground feeling. We both broke out in giggles – I actually giggled.

Brittany helped me up, and I couldn't help but smile so big as she let out a few remaining giggles. My chest hurt a bit from the fall, but you can't just go around rubbing your boobs, so I rolled my shoulder a little before following Brittany to the table. The others started coming out as I took my seat next to her. Artie bumped into me as he sat, which caused me to bump into Brittany.

The guys had gotten about a million packs of ketchup, but there was no honey-mustard in sight. So Brittany and I sat a minute with our matching meals in front of us before Brittany jumped up. She went to get some. I watched the others as they found their food and started conversations. It wasn't hard to notice how our group had grown (if I could even call it _our _group anymore).

"So Antonio's working at the hospital?" Mike said.

"Yeah," I said. "Well, he will be, but he hasn't started yet."

"And that's why you moved back?" Tina asked.

"Yeah."

"It's great to see you back. I didn't get a chance when you were here last," Kurt said.

The conversation fizzled out and I just watched; watched and listened as they smiled and talked. I almost jumped when I felt Brittany fall back down on the seat next to me. Her hand was planted on the plastic of the red bench next to mine – against mine. Our pinky fingers were smashed together, and I just looked at her; her face, her hair, but never her eyes. And then she spoke.

"What happened?"

"What?" I said.

"You were smiling earlier. We were smiling and it looked like you were having fun, but now – you look sad, or confused," she said. "What happened?" My eyes flicked to hers, and then away.

"Uh," I said. I shook my head. "I'm just sitting."

"'Keep smiling, because life is a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about.'" I felt her pinky move, but I didn't look down. I just stayed still, and her pinky curled around mine. "Marilyn Monroe." I smiled.

She pushed a few containers of honey-mustard to me.

"How did you know my middle name?" I asked suddenly, remembering her words from before.

"Quinn told me," she said.

"Oh," I said._ Of course._

"I like it," she said. "Santana Marie Lopez. It fits you." I had always liked the way she said my name.

"What's yours?" I asked, after debating whether I should or not.

"Susan," she said. "Brittany Susan Pierce." I continued to smile at her, because hers fit, too. And when I told her so, there was the slightest squeeze on my pinky.

We ate and talked – to each other, to the others – for about an hour. I heard stories about school; I heard stories about weekends; I heard stories about Lord Tubbington (who, Quinn told me, was Brittany's cat); I even heard the story about how Mike and Tina started dating.

Mike had some things, which he did not specify, he needed to get done, so he and Tina headed off, offering to drop Kurt and Rachel back at their homes. The four of them headed off, and as soon as my door was unlocked, before I could say anything, Artie jumped into the passenger seat. Brittany and Quinn got in Quinn's car; we headed to my house.

"Brittany's pretty cool, huh?" Artie said.

"Yeah," I agreed, because it was true.

We talked most of the way back to my house. It felt nice to have my friend back.

We went in through the side door, and stopped by the office so I could tell my mom I was home. My mom happily greeted Quinn and Artie, and I introduced Brittany. When Brittany expressed her want to see my room as we bounded up the stairs, I thought about how much of a mess it was. But there was no time to clean up.

Quinn and Artie made jokes about how messy I was.

"Shut up," I growled at them. Brittany giggled, and said I had an excuse because I had just moved in. We talked, we played music, we joked, we ate some snacks, and they even assisted me in unpacking some of my stuff.

I learned that Brittany moved to Lima at the end of last summer; Artie was the first person she talked to when she got to school, and then, of course, he introduced her to Quinn and Mike. (Turns out I was right about the dancing thing, because they couldn't stop telling me how good Brittany was – "Ask Mike," they said.) Brittany was the one who really brought more people into the group, too. She already fit in so well.

I wanted to ask Brittany to dance. Even without the praise she got (and certainly deserved), I knew it was true that she was good. She screamed_ dancer_, and it was such a good scream to hear. I thought about her dancing with Mike; he had always been the best dancer in town, and I was sure Brittany would give him a run for his money (but I also knew he'd love it).

I didn't ask.

With the music playing and the infectious smiles and laughter, she ended up dancing anyway – goofy dancing, just jumping around the room, but she did. Artie joined her in no time, and they even got Quinn to jump in. With my friends hopping around and having fun, I stopped unpacking completely and just watched. Brittany spun Quinn and she ended up in Artie's arms.

Brittany moved in front of me, looking down at me where I sat. She extended her arms down to me and told me to get up and dance. But I just shook my head._ No way_, I thought. She said it again, but I, too, repeated myself.

She reached down, gripping both of my arms just above the wrist. My arms slipped though her light grip and she took my hands. She urged me again and I laughed, but still refused. I couldn't. She frowned at me and tugged on my arms.

"No," I laughed out. I wanted to give in._ Just do it_, I told myself. But I couldn't dance; I wouldn't have even known where to begin. I didn't want to make a fool of myself; not in front of my friends, and definitely not in front of her. She asked again. I wanted to so bad; I wanted to give in to her pout and I wanted to make her smile again._ Just do it!_

I couldn't.

* * *

Somehow, we got roped into making dinner. But, that also came with the decision of what to have. We chose Pizza. Surprisingly, we had everything we needed.

We had enough dough to make two pizza's, so while Quinn and Artie pressed out one, Brittany and I worked on the other. It didn't take a genius to figure out it had turned into a competition.

Brittany and I spread the sauce carefully (after a second and finally successful attempt at creating the circular form and crust for our pizza). We moved on to cheese next, layering it with two different kinds – mozzarella and feta cheese. I dropped the mozzarella as equally as I could over the sauce and Brittany followed by sprinkling the feta.

I swore Artie started it. I know he did. So when I got a face full of Parmesan cheese after I retaliated, things got messy. I threw a handful of mozzarella, hitting Artie in the face as he had me, and Quinn in the side of the head. She gasped, and threw some of her own cheese, which hit a giggling Brittany when I managed to get out of the way.

Brittany slapped some pepperoni into my hand and we ducked behind the counter. Brittany laughed when I caught one Artie threw in my mouth. The leftover sauce went flying, and if I hadn't managed to avoid keeping my hair clean, someone would have been hurt. We came to a point of pause, where we just breathed, and looked. We broke out in laughter, and assessed the mess of the kitchen.

Brittany and I topped our Pizza with the pepperoni left in the package, and a few that had landed on the counter. After throwing our pizza's in the oven, we went to work with the cleaning. We had ten minutes to spare after we had everything back to normal – before anyone even knew.

Antonio didn't get off for a few hours, so we gave my mom a slice of each of our pizza's and took the rest up to my room. Brittany, Quinn, and Artie squeezed onto my bed and I sat in my chair at the side of it. Everyone tried both pizza's, and even though Quinn and Artie did a good job, Brittany and I persisted that ours was best. After we finished both pizza's, we watched tv for a while. Quinn said she needed to get home soon, so they decided to leave.

Brittany gave me a hug, and a smile, before she left. I returned to my room and changed into non pizza slathered clothes. I had almost missed it, but I stopped in the middle of my room when I spotted it:a small piece of paper, folded and placed on top of my pillow. I watched it for a moment, as if it would do something, and then moved forward to actually look at it. I narrowed my eyes and unfolded it. In neat little handwriting, it read:

"_Everything you want is on the other side of fear."_

– _Jack Canfield_

I had instantly thought of Brittany. And then I read it again. I smiled a little, just because she had left it for me. And then I read it again. I sat on the edge of my bed, and I wondered how she had even written and gotten it there without me noticing. And then, after I reclined back onto the bed, I read it once more.

I woke up hours later, my legs still dangling to the ground and the paper still in my hand. I put the paper on the table beside my bed and checked the time;it was around midnight. My eyes felt droopy, and I wanted to just go back to sleep – but then I remembered I was supposed to go see my dad. I felt bad, because I forgot all about it.

I scribbled a quick note:_ At Dad's_ and grabbed my keys before heading out the door.

I knew he'd be asleep already, so it didn't really make sense that I had gone anyway; I didn't know why I had. I went straight to the door that lead to my bedroom and unlocked the door, locking it behind me once I was in. I went to the bed; I lay there; I looked.

The tiredness I felt before hadn't left me, but sleep didn't want to take me. I was tired, but I couldn't sleep. So I lay there. And I thought. And generally, thinking wasn't good; not for me.

My day had been so good. I smiled so much; I laughed so much; I saw my friends. But it was over. The day was over; my fun was over. I didn't feel sad, exactly, and there was nothing to be sad about; but I was on the brink of feeling everything, where instead, I felt... nothing. It was frustrating. I couldn't understand, and the more I thought, the more I started to feel bad.

I reviewed my day as I had often done. I thought about the stupid things I said. I thought about the stupid thing I'd done._ I should have danced._ But most of all, all I could think was_ but now it's over._ It was stupid to think, because it couldn't last forever; I couldn't have them with me every second; I couldn't just be so happy every second. That only made me feel worse.

I thought about Brittany's quote. How do you get over fear? Do you just drop it?_ I'm done with you, fear._ But how? It's fear. You're afraid; how do you just... get over that?

_I should run_, I thought. But I couldn't get myself to move from the bed. So I stayed. And I looked. And I thought.

* * *

**¡Espera! = Hold up!**

**¡Suéltame! = Put me down!**

* * *

**So, there's chapter two. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**Question: If Quinn were to be in a relationship, who would you like to see her with?**

**Also, if you haven't noticed, there will probably be quite a few quotes used in this story... so, if you have any you like or think would work in the story, leave 'em in a review!**

**Tell me what you think?**


	3. Distractions and Adventures

**cucumber26: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy them.**

**Dominique van der Graaf: I'm glad you're like it. Thanks for the quote.**

**You're awesome: So happy you like it so far. Thank you for reading, and I'll keep going as long as people don't hate it.**

**JadedAndBitter: Really? That's awesome. Thank you :) I'm sorry it took a while for me to update.**

**NTP: I'm not sure if that's good or bad? I'll try to update the next chapter quicker than I did with this one.**

**kml2355: I'm glad you like it, and I'm sorry for the confusion; I know I tend to skip over stuff. I'm glad you like the quotes idea, and thank you for the quote!**

**Thank you for reviewing and/or adding to alerts/favorites!**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

I started thinking. I thought about hanging out with Brittany and Quinn and Artie and Mike and all the others again. And then I realized I was awake. I lay still for a moment, knowing that if I opened my eyes, sleep was gone.

When I opened my eyes, I looked over to the window that let light spill in. I reached around for my phone, finding it a minute later, still in my pocket. It was almost 1:00pm.

I climbed the four steps to the upper level of the house into the kitchen. I spotted my dad, to the left, sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and the newspaper. He saw me, too, and smiled.

"Hey," he said, folding the newspaper and laying it on the table. "I didn't hear you come in last night." I sat across from him at the table.

"Yeah, I got in late," I said. He nodded.

"I made you breakfast," he said, and nodded toward the stove. I glanced back and then stood up as he drank from his glass. I uncovered the skillet to reveal bacon and eggs. I got a plate from the cabinet and dumped the food into it, grabbing a fork before moving back to the table.

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," I said. He just smiled, friendly and caring like always, and told me not to worry about it.

When I was almost done with my food, Eva walked in through the front door. She smiled at me and held up the grocery bag in her hand saying, "We ran out of milk. Again." She sent my dad a look. He shrugged and she rolled her eyes and moved over to the fridge.

My dad and Eva had been dating since before I moved, living together for the last few. Eva was never the evil bitch type dad's girlfriend, which was good; I had actually gotten along with her pretty well from the start. She didn't try to be cool, or impress me or my brother, either. She had her moments, don't get me wrong, but she was usually a calm and relaxed person.

"What are you and The Milkman talking about?" Eva asked, taking a seat between my dad and I. The nickname had been around for so long, I didn't even think much about it. "The Milkman" or sometimes just "Milkman" was started by Eva herself because of the copious amounts of milk my dad would consume. And it stuck, though I personally stuck with "Dad" most of the time.

"Nothing," I said, "just eating."

"Boring," she said, taking a sip from my dad's glass. I'd describe it as plain, rather than boring; it wasn't precisely fun, but it wasn't "boring." It just was.

* * *

When I got back to my mom's, my brother's car was in the driveway. I parked behind him and went inside where he and my mom were sitting in the office, talking. I had barely joined them when the doorbell sounded.

I opened the front door, and there stood Brittany and Quinn.

"Brittany wanted to ring the doorbell," Quinn said. I nodded, gave Brittany a smile, and let them in.

We walked to the office and my mom said, "It's good to see you again, girls."

"You too," they both said.

"This is my brother, Mikey," I told Brittany.

"Hey," Mikey said, lifting his hand in a wave.

"Hi," Brittany said.

I let Brittany take my chair, because there were no others, and Quinn and I stood. It wasn't long before Mikey announced his hunger, and we decided to go eat. My mom had already eaten, so Brittany, Quinn, and I piled into Mikey's car – me next to him in the passenger seat and Brittany and Quinn in the back.

After going out a little past my dad's house to pick up Mikey's friend, Joe, we went to a place called Pacific Grill, which was Mikey's favorite place to eat in town. We talked for a while until our food got there (or Brittany, Mikey, Quinn, and Joe talked, really). Brittany and Quinn had gotten food to share, but after I let Brittany try mine ("Can I try it?" she asked) she sort of abandoned Quinn's plate, and we shared mine. I didn't mind.

Somehow, kites came up; I think it was Brittany. So, we agreed that, after we finished eating, we would go fly kites ("Why not?" Mikey said). We finished our food soon after and returned to Mikey's car.

"Where are we gonna get some kites?" Mikey asked, pulling out onto the main road.

"Dollar store?" Joe suggested.

"Sweet," Mikey said. And we drove to the Dollar General near the end of town.

"We're gonna get some badass kites, man!" Joe said.

We made our way to the back of the store and down a few aisles before we found the kites. The only options they had were dragon kites and butterfly kites. We got three of each.

We headed out of town, toward Columbus, where Mikey lived, to a large field. As soon as we were out of the car, Brittany, Mikey, and Joe tore into their kites; they got the dragons. Quinn and I followed, opening our butterfly kites. Brittany was the first to have her kite in the air, but Mikey and Joe were quick to follow. My struggle to fly a kite was embarrassing, but it made me feel better that Quinn was having (almost) as much trouble as I.

Unfortunately, Brittany noticed. And then she came to our rescue. She helped Quinn first, getting the kite in the air for her and then letting Quinn take over. Quinn smiled enthusiastically and took off with her kite. Brittany smiled at me and glanced at the kite on the ground next to me.

"Need some help?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Yeah." She moved closer. She didn't look at me like I was lame for not being able to fly the stupid kite or anything. She just smiled. She just wanted to help.

She slipped the reel out of my hands and I watched her as she, again, got the kite into the air like she had done for Quinn. She turned to face me. "See? Easy." But then she brought it back down. I frowned. She continued to smile as she handed back the reel.

"You try," she said. I hesitated.

"I don't think I can," I said.

"'Limitations live only in our minds. But if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless,'" she said. "Jamie Paolinetti."

It took me two tries, my first a complete fail, seeing as it crashed to the ground in mere seconds. And then I got it to fly. Brittany skipped back to pick up her own kite, and when she returned to my side, "Run!" came from her lips. We ran.

When we found our way back to the others, they were standing by a tree, looking up.

"Mikey got his dragon stuck in the tree," Joe told us, still looking up, using his finger to direct us to the kite.

"I think I can climb up there and get it," Mikey said, moving slightly closer to the tree.

"I can do it," Brittany said. We all looked to her. "Really, it looks easy."

Mikey shrugged and said, "Go ahead." So Brittany handed me her kite and jumped up into the tree. She climbed with ease, and it was kind of amazing to watch. My heart leapt when she leaned out onto the smaller branches and something snapped. A branch fell, but she peeked down and confirmed her safety before returning to the ground.

She handed the tattered dragon to Mikey and said, "Looks like he got in a fight with Lord Tubbington." Mikey shrugged, said, "Thanks anyways," and smiled while Quinn and Joe gave Brittany strange looks.

"I'm gonna rock that butterfly," Mikey said as we walked away from the trees.

* * *

Brittany, Quinn and I spent Saturday together, and then Brittany and I even went to church with Quinn on Sunday morning. Since we went to church with them, Quinn's mom let us stay the rest of the day.

"Do you think you could give Brittany a ride home?" Quinn asked me. "My mom doesn't really want me going out."

"Sure," I said, and then shortly after, we left. It was the first time I had been alone with Brittany in my car. I let her pick the music. I got rewarded, for why I don't really know, by the smile on her face as she shuffled through the songs on my phone. I cannot deny the slight sadness that arrived when we pulled up into her driveway.

"Can I have your number?" Brittany asked. I was a little surprised, but it made me feel good knowing that she wanted my number. So I gave it to her (and she gave me hers).

"I want to be able to talk to you while I'm gone," she said.

"Gone?" I questioned. I didn't like the idea of Brittany being gone.

"I'm going to visit family in California," she explained.

"Oh," I said.

"But this way" – she tapped her phone – "we can still talk." She smiled and then leaned over to hug me. I rested my chin on her shoulder as I snaked my own arms around her. "Thanks for driving me home," she said softly.

"Yeah, no problem," I replied.

And then she got out. And I sat, watching her as she walked to her front door. And then she was gone. And then I left.

I got a text later that night, a few minutes after I got into bed.

**Brittany:**_ Goodnight, Santana Marie_

Seeing her name pop up on my phone made me smile.

**Me:**_ Night_

A minute later, I picked up my phone and looked at the two messages exchanged between the two of us. I frowned at my response. I focused my eyes on hers, smiled slightly, and forgot about my own.

* * *

When I woke up on Monday, I found this on my phone:

**Brittany:**_ Are you awake?_

It was from a few hours before, so I hesitated before replying.

**Me:**_ I am now_

I didn't get anything back. Not until later that night, anyway. Brittany told me that I should get up earlier, and then went on to explain that she was on a plane all day, which is why she took so long to reply. We talked briefly, and then she went to sleep.

I spent the rest of the week hanging out with Quinn and some of the others. And texting Brittany. She'd tell me about her day, I'd tell her what I could about mine (there was never much to tell), and we'd talk about whatever else we could. And it was nice. So nice.

* * *

On Wednesday afternoon, Artie called and said to go to the park. I decided not to question, because I figured we'd just be hanging out, and I didn't have anything else to do. I parked in the small parking lot by the skate area and saw the group of people across the park near one of the tables. I followed the sidewalk until I had to continue onto the grass.

"Catch!" Mike hollered, sending the football flying through the air in my direction. I caught it, barely, and continued walking until I reached him. I handed the ball back. He twisted, shooting it into the air in the opposite direction, and then turned back to me.

"Glad you could join us," he said. When he turned again to catch the ball, I made my way over to the table to sit with Quinn. The group, it seemed, had gotten even larger. Brittany had mentioned the others, but so for I hadn't even seen them.

It was a bit weird to see Mike and Artie with Puck, Karofsky, Sam, and Finn, but I figured that it kind of made sense that they had become friends since joining the school's football team. There was Mercedes, too, who I knew to be friends with both Kurt and Rachel. Even though I had no problems with her, I had said few words to her back in middle school. The one person I didn't recognize was standing around with most of the guys; I was informed his name was Blaine. Rachel went on to explain he was not a part of the football team, but – Kurt joined in at that point – he had become friends with Kurt and soon started hanging out with the group, too.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

**Brittany:**_ How's the park?_

**Me:**_ This group is definitely a lot more fun with you around._

"Is that Brittany again?" Quinn asked.

I looked at her, opened my mouth, closed it, and then answered, "Yeah."

"You guys seem to be getting pretty close," she said. I shrugged.

For the next few minutes, I mostly listened – or heard, because I wasn't particularly paying attention to the majority of what they said – to the other girls (and Kurt) talk as the guys continued to play with the football. I was finding it hard, still, to really "connect" with my friends, especially with all the others there. A few minutes of conversation here and there; a moment of fun. But really, what kind of life was I living? I couldn't understand my incompetence to find words to say to them. I tried not to want a reply from Brittany too much, because I knew it might be a while.

Not long after, the guys took a break and crowded around the table. Puck ended up (or maybe he did it on purpose?) next to me. I inched closer to Quinn, because he was all sweaty and I really just didn't want him to be near me. Puck was never really a person I liked.

The minutes passed, though, and I noticed something. I noticed his eyes; I noticed his leering. He ended up moving to sit on the edge of the table top, one of his feet resting on the bench next to me. He was talking to Finn, but I knew he was looking at me half the time. I wasn't sure whether to be grossed out – the disgust was definitely there – and uncomfortable, or happy that he was looking, noticing, and seemingly, liking what he saw.

Then, when I felt something warm on my knee, I looked to him. My eyes narrowed and he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I bounced my leg and his hand fell away. But he continued to smile and talk to the others. I got in some conversations then, but I couldn't help still feeling sort of out of place. After drinking a whole bunch of water, the guys returned to the grass.

That night, I told Brittany what Puck had said to me before I left ("What do you think about some alone time with Puckasaurus?") Brittany thought it was hilarious and I wished I could hear her laugh; I thought it would be weird to ask her to call me while she laughed, though. She told me that he hit on her, too, and every hot girl he saw. I read over that an extra two times. _Does that mean she thinks I'm hot?_ I thought. I pushed the impossible thought out of my head and replied, telling her that he was worse from when I knew him before.

* * *

Thursday night was bad. My day was fine, I had even hung out with Quinn, Mike, and Artie a little bit. But as night fell, so did my mood. It started out as boredom (stage #1) – which inevitably leads to thought. Distractions were a must, and when I didn't have them, my mind would attack. Sometimes, even when I did have them, I would still think too much.

From there, it went to unsettling (stage #2). I didn't want to do anything, because it all felt irritating; I didn't even want to sleep. Slowly, it turned into a bad mood (stage #3). Too much thinking (_What the fuck are you doing with your life? Why are you like this?_). Too much everything; too much nothing. The tears settled in my eyes – tears for everything, tears for nothing – but I refused to let them fall. (That – the tears, the sadness – incidentally made everything worse._ Don't you dare fucking cry!_)

And then came Brittany's text. She told me about her day again (and how much fun she thought I would have had if I was there, too). This settled me into what I like to call the other stage #1 – not quite bored, but void of emotion. And as I read over Brittany's words, I gradually fell into what is the closest to "normal" I could get. I felt myself start to smile as she explained.

However, the dilemma of not knowing what to offer back, which frustrated me to no end, arrived. I dropped back into stage #2 and I started to feel as if I wished she hadn't texted me in the first place. I wouldn't have to worry. But the conversation moved on, and she seemed to be satisfied with my replies. My mood settled once again.

**Brittany:**_ What are you thinking about?_

_You_, I thought. But I couldn't tell her that. I stared at the screen, running responses through my head. There had to be something I could say.

_Santana?_

**Me:**_ My friends._

**Brittany:**_ What about them?_

**Me:**_ Just that I'm glad to have them_

**Brittany:**_ I'm glad to have you, too_

I smiled at my phone. Even though I hadn't said it, she knew exactly what I meant. I didn't know how, but I was glad she did. We had talked so much since she left, and I wondered, for a moment, if it would continue when she got back.

**Me:**_ Night, Britt Britt_

I hadn't wanted her to go, but I knew she had a long day.

**Brittany:**_ Night night Santana Marie_

I locked my phone, dropped it to my side on the bed and closed my eyes.

A few hours later, my phone beeped. I didn't expect it to be Brittany, but I was awake and my phone was close so I checked it.

_**Brittany:**__ "Thoughts could leave a deeper scarring than almost anything else."_

– _J.K Rowling_

I revealed little – but too much, and that's all she needed. I figured she waited to send it when she thought I was asleep, so I wouldn't feel like I had to reply. Or maybe she just thought of it. Or maybe she just saw it somewhere. I had a feeling it was the first one, but the other options lingered.

* * *

I spent the majority of Friday afternoon with my dad and Eva. Mikey came by and we went out for dinner, and then when he left I returned to my mom's. I had only received one text from Brittany, and it was from the morning before I had even gotten up. I tried not to think about it, because I knew she was busy doing stuff with her family in California.

It was around midnight, I was watching tv, and then it came.

**Brittany:**_ "Go out and do something. It isn't your room that's a prison, it's yourself."_

_-Sylvia Plath_

I smiled at my phone, but before I could even start to reply, another message showed up.

_Go outside_

I was confused as to why Brittany would want me to go outside.

**Me:**_ Okay..._

But I listened.

I walked out the side door and stood next to the truck. I stood for a moment and glanced around.

_What am I doing, Britt?_

**Brittany:**_ Do you want to do something?_

**Me:**_ Uh? Now?_

_Is there even anything to do in Lima?_

**Brittany:**_ Is that a yes?_

It made no sense. But it was Brittany. Who was I to deny doing something with her?

**Me:**_ Yes_

**Brittany:**_ I'm sure we can find something. We can even walk around until we find something interesting if we need to_

**Me:**_ So what does this have to do with me standing outside again?_

**Brittany:**_ Walk down the driveway_

I did, and there, parked in front of my house, was a car. I squinted, the window lowered, and a smiling Brittany was revealed. I slid my phone into my pocket and walked up to the car.

"Hi," she said, soft and sweet.

"Hi," I said. She giggled.

"What do you think?" I assumed she was asking about her offer to do something, so I nodded, and scampered over to the passenger side and got in. Brittany rolled her window up and we moved down the street.

"You didn't tell me you were coming back," I said after a few minutes of silence.

"I wanted to surprise you," she said. "You were awake, right?" I nodded.

_I'm glad you're back_, I thought, because I couldn't say it out loud.

We used my phone for music because she didn't have any on her own and the radio stations in Lima were always lame. She continued to drive through town, heading to the outer part of town, also known as Lima Heights Adjacent.

The lights were dim as we propelled down the deserted road, making us seem like the only life around. Of course, this wasn't true; I knew, behind the building and in the houses, there were the sleepers, because most people in Lima weren't up too late.

When she started to slow, I looked out my window. We turned onto a dirt road; we drove for about five more minutes before she started to slow again. The only thing in my view was a large mostly vacant dirt field, which, when we got closer, had visible imprints from people driving around. On what, I wasn't too sure.

We got out of the car and she led me farther, but still hadn't said anything. She was smiling, and I glanced at her a few times before saying anything.

"What are we doing here?" She looked my way, but when I felt something against my hand, my eyes snapped down. It was hers. She had, like that day at McDonald's, wrapped her pinky around mine. She lifted my- our hands, pointing ahead. I looked back up and in the distance was something. I squinted, confirming it to be a bike – a dirt bike – when we got a little closer.

"Do you trust me?" she said.

My brow furrowed, and I answered slowly. "Yeah..."

We stopped at the bike and our pinky's disconnected.

"Get on," she said.

My eyes widened. "No thanks." She chuckled.

"It's really fun," she said, moving around to the other side of the bike. She bent down, and when she looked back to me, she lifted a helmet in each hand.

"You get on," I said. Her lips turned downward slightly. But then she nodded and dropped one of the helmets next to me and put the other on her head. She started the bike.

"Don't go anywhere," she said. I nodded and smiled._ Where would I go?_ I thought. I hadn't wanted to be anywhere else anyway.

"Don't get hurt," I said quickly after she kicked the kickstand with the heel of her shoe. Her head bobbed, and I had to imagine her bright smile. And then she took off.

She followed the patterns already tracked out, going fast, before cutting down the middle. She went over a mound of dirt, and I was sure she was going to land and get thrown off or something. I was proved wrong when she landed perfectly. I was glad. She went back to the tracks, following it around until she was headed back to me.

I let out a squeak when she sped right past me. She slid to a stop, flinging dirt, thankfully, in the opposite direction of me. I hadn't realized at the time that my eyes had clenched tight until I head a small laugh. I peaked an eye open.

"What'd you think?" said her muffled voice as she killed the engine. I said the first word that popped in my head.

"Amazing."

She pushed the kickstand down and swung her far leg over so she was fully facing me. A huge smile was plastered on her face when she pulled the helmet off. She tucked it under her arm while running her free hand through her hair.  
"Are you ready to try now?" she asked.

"No way," I objected. "Especially not after that."

"Nobody's gonna laugh at you, Santana Marie."

I shook my head. "That's not-" Her fingers grazed the back of my hand. My hand, which I hadn't realized before, was cold. Just by the soft swipe of her fingers I could tell hers were warm. I looked up at her, my eyes meeting blue, as her fingers brushed down mine.

"Then what is it?" Her voice was low – curious. My hand felt even colder, the night air more prominent against my skin after her warm touch.

"You don't have to, but I think you'd like it."

"Fine," I huffed. It did look fun, and I was actually a little excited. Brittany jumped up and smiled at me, because she knew.

She softly dropped her helmet to the ground and reached over for the other. She placed it atop my head, slowly moving it down until it was in place. After her own helmet was back on her head, she once again kicked the kickstand off the ground. Instead of getting on, or making me get on, though, she started pushing it. We went to the right, stopping when we were in the middle of the most dominant tracks.

She moved in front of the bike and straddled the front wheel, holding it steady while I got on. She pointed out the main parts – gas, brake. She continued, sounding completely serious, and moved the handlebars back and forth; the motion was cut short due to her legs. "This is how you steer." She looked up at me and the corner of my mouth tugged upward.

"Right," I laughed. "I got it." I was certain, hidden behind the helmet, was her pleased smile.

"Okay," she said, backing from the bike and moving to my side. "All ready?" I nodded.

"Start slow," she told me. "And avoid the big mounds." I mumbled, "got it," and lifted my feet from the ground and took off – slowly.

Brittany jogged beside me a few feet before she instructed me to go faster. I did, and she fell back. I made it around the track and found my way back to her in the middle. I didn't dare go as near to her as she did me.

"You did great!" she said as I lifted my helmet, needing to be freed from the heat. I complained about the helmet; she laughed.

She patted my helmet when I put it back in place and then I took off once again. I was about to go around a curve when I glanced back. Brittany gave me a thumbs up (which I learned was actually her motioning for me to turn back around). I felt myself fall; the bike slipped out from underneath me; I tumbled to the ground.

"Santana!"

I groaned as I sat up; I could still hear the bike running. Brittany fell to her knees beside me.

"Are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, looking over to the bike where it lay on its side a little down the track.

"Shit." I looked to Brittany. "I'm so sorry," I said. She looked confused. "I'll pay for the bike-"

"I don't care about the bike," she said. "Are you hurt?" I felt the sting in my arm.

"Just a scratch," I said, then, "I'm really sorry." She stood up, walked over to the bike and lifted it from the ground. After she turned it off, she looked back to me and said, "It's not even bad."

And it wasn't. But I couldn't stop the wave of embarrassment that washed over me.

"Come here, Santana Marie," Brittany instructed. I looked up from my lap, where I had been staring at my hands. I moved, pushed up from the ground, and walked over to Brittany. She took my arm, turning it carefully to examine the scratches. She reached back with her right hand while still holding my arm with her left. A handkerchief was in her hand when it reappeared. My stress slipped away as she wiped at my arm.

"Do you want to leave?" she asked, folding the handkerchief and stuffing it into her pocket.

"No," I said right away. "I mean, unless you do..." She smiled and shook her head.

We walked back to the middle, Brittany pushing the bike after refusing my help, about where the bike was in the first place. The kickstand went down once again and Brittany nudged me a little to the side. She sat down and I glanced around before sitting in front of her.

"You have to focus when you're riding," she informed.

"I could have used that advice a few minutes ago," I said. She nodded, smiling. We talked about our days for a little bit, and our night so far. And then Brittany stopped, and looked up.

"The stars are so pretty," she said. "Don't you think?" I looked up, too. They were, shining bright and filling the sky. I heard the dirt move under Brittany, but I didn't think anything of it and continued to look up. Only when I felt something – her head – against my legs, did I look down. She looked up at me, smiling so sweetly.

I thought it would have been weird, her laying her head in my lap, but it really wasn't. It was more the thought of it rather than that actual act of it. Because there, with her head resting in my lap, it was just comfortable. It felt natural. I returned a smile, because I couldn't help it, and we both focused our attention to the sky.

"When did you learn to ride?" I asked.

"When I was ten, maybe? Nothing major, but then I got better," she answered.

"You're really good."

"You think?" I knew her eyes were on me then, but I continued to look up.

"Yeah."

I found myself playing with the tips of her hair that splayed over my knee. I had never played with someone's hair before that. And the silence was comfortable, which was rare with people who weren't my family. Everything with Brittany was so different. I felt free, almost – though I couldn't rid myself completely of my fear, and my hate – with her.

"Santana?" I looked down. "Are we best friends?" I think that was the first time I heard Brittany sound so... nervous. I found myself oddly confident as I replied with, "Yeah, definitely." She smiled so big. And then I smiled so big. And we were just smiling at each other so much.

"It seems kind of impossible," I said, "considering all the worthless things we've talked about since we met."

"'There is no such thing as a worthless conversation, provided you know what to listen for. And questions are the breath of life for a conversation,'" she said. "James Nathan Miller."

I looked back up and thought about it for a moment.

"How do you remember all of those, Britt?" I asked, looking back down at her. It was the almost unseen flicker in her eyes that alerted me I had, in person, called her "Britt" for the first time. I think she had been smiling the whole night.

"They're interesting," she said simply. I nodded and tilted my head back to face the stars.

After a few minutes, I spoke up again: "Are you sure? Because, I mean, the other night we started talking about_ colors_. And then we got to socks, somehow, and you were like 'rainbow's not really a color, it's a lot of colors, but I have these rainbow socks and they're, like, amazing.'" Brittany laughed, and I felt like I was going to break my neck or something as I once again dropped my head to look down at her.

"How'd you remember that?" she asked.

"You're interesting." It came out quiet, because it slipped out even after I decided not to say it. I felt a slight panic, worrying that my words were dumb, but she kept smiling; smiling bigger, like it was one of the best things she'd ever heard.

"And you said, 'rainbows are pretty awesome.'"

And then we just sat in the dirt for a while, me cross-legged and Brittany with her back against the ground and head in my lap. Brittany's pants were already dirty, and she didn't seem to mind she had, by lying on the ground, gotten her shirt full of dirt, too.

* * *

Until we went back to the car and saw the time, 2:44am, we hadn't realized how long we had been out. I felt tired. I felt tired in a weird, good way; a blissful tired after doing something you enjoyed so much. Brittany drove me home, our music the only noticeable sound during the early morning in the still empty streets. She turned it off when we turned down my street, and parked back where she was when she picked me up earlier. She turned off the car and looked my way, her head resting on the back of her seat.

"I had a lovely time with you, Santana Marie," she said.

"Thank you," I said. Her smile grew bigger and she gave a lazy nod. I nodded, too, and then opened my door.

I had made it around the car and almost onto the driveway when I heard Brittany's door open.

"Wait!"

I spun around and she skipped toward me. She didn't stop and just ran into me – albeit lightly – and wrapped her arms around me. My arms slid around her neck and I hugged back.

"Okay," she said, pulling away, "go sleep."

"I'll see you later," I said. She nodded and turned back to her car. I continued up the driveway to the side door.

As soon as I stepped in, I could see the light shining out from the office. I closed the door slowly. I got about three steps into away when –

"Where in the_ world_ have you been?" my mom said, stern faced.

"I was – I was at Dad's," I said. I wasn't sure why I lied – okay, I was. I just didn't want her to think bad of Brittany or anything.

Her eyes narrowed. "You walked all the way over to your dad's?"_ Shit_, I thought._ My car_.

"No, uh, a friend... picked me up." She shook her head.

"You know I don't mind you going out," - she looked right at me - "though it doesn't make me too happy when it's in the middle of the night, but you know the rules: tell me, leave a note – algo! No puedes simplemente desaparecer, Santana!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I forgot."

"All right," she sighed. "I'm going to sleep. If you decide to leave again for whatever reason, leave a note."

"I know."

"I mean it." She kissed the side of my head and then turned and went to the stairs. I got some water from the kitchen before returning to my room to sleep for what remained of the morning.

* * *

**algo! No puedes simplemente desaparecer, Santana! = something! You can't just disappear, Santana!**

* * *

**I have trouble getting myself to concentrate on writing. I'm sorry.**

**Tell me what you think?**


	4. The Change

**JadedAndBitter: And because of that I will. Thank you for reading :)**

**Gtown85: I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.**

**Dominique van der Graaf: Wow, really? I try, and I believe it when I start reading your nice reviews... but then when I'm reading over my writing it just doesn't seem good.**

**GoatAteMyMoney: I'm glad you liked that! It started off as them talking about Brittany using the quotes... and yeah.  
**

**nayalove: Glad you liked it! The thing about this story is... it's about Santana hating herself. That's like one of the main points, the other being Brittana. My idea is to have Brittany help her with that... not like, fix her... but help her work on herself, I guess. (If that makes sense)  
**

**CBGB: I'm glad you're liking it! So sorry for how long it took to update.  
**

**kml2355: It is summer for them, and the rest I will try to throw in the story. I'm sorry for not having those things in there yet, but I'm glad you are enjoying it.  
**

**NTP: Reading your review just makes me want to write - and, I'm pretty sure I did when I first read this, but then I started having trouble. Thank you for reading, and your review!  
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**Thank you for you reviews and/or adding to alerts favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

I dreamed of her. It was an oddly simple dream. Just Brittany and I: We were on a porch swing, my legs dangling over the edge swinging us slowly, (you'd think this one sided pushing would cause it to be lopsided, but it was a dream) her lying on her back with her head on my leg, knees bent up so she could fit.

The view was dim, the air fresh. No words were spoken; it was just silent comfort. My everything felt happy. Happy to have Brittany there; happy to have her so close. I could see, but I wasn't looking. The picture in front of me was blurred and I was just focused on the feeling.

At one point, my eyes settled back to the view. Not for long, though, because they shifted down, to my leg, to the movement. Brittany had moved her arm, moved her hand, moved her fingers. Her slim fingers were wedged under my leg closest to her in what looked like a very uncomfortable way, her thumb brushing against my jeans repeatedly. The pressure of her head against my leg increased; she looked up at me. A glimpse of blue.

Her eyes sucked in all the stars, all the sky, leaving it blank. However, instead of being crowded with stars, her blue orbs just sparkled brilliantly. All the beauty. All the wonder. All in her eyes. I never wanted to look away. I never wanted to move.

* * *

My hand slapped on top of my phone and I dragged it closer. My eyes opened; the screen lit, displaying the time: 5:06pm. The mini envelope at the top of the screen caught my eye. My thumb swiped across the screen; down the screen;_ tap_.

**Brittany:**_ Are you up yet, sleepyhead?_

From a few hours after that was another:_ Sorry I kept you up all night. Text me when you're up_

_Morning, Britt Britt,_ I wrote out. But it wasn't morning, or even close. I erased it and tried again.

**Me:**_ Hey Britt Britt_

**Brittany:**_ Santana Marie!_

_Did you sleep good?_

**Me: **_I knocked out as soon as I got in bed_

**Brittany:**_ Well you have the weekend to rest up_

**Me:**_ yeah_

I didn't really care for more resting. I really just wanted to hang out with Brittany more.

* * *

Before I moved, Mike, Artie and I had this sort of "tradition" in which we would go to the Lima Bean – a sort of cafe/hang out near the park – on Sundays. Seeing as we weren't big church-goers like Quinn, it was our Sunday thing. I had almost forgotten about it, and I was a little surprised when they mentioned it. Had they continued it the whole time?

It felt good to have plans instead of having nothing and more nothing to do on a daily basis.

I got there around two, and I saw the guys and Tina hanging around out front. Artie strolled over to me. We straggled through the doors and went to the eating area to the left. We each got a soda and a slice of pizza (Mike and Artie got two) and then took a table near the wall, Mike and Tina sitting next to each other and Artie and I sitting on the other side with our backs to the door.

The food provided enough for it to not be weird, and the conversation consisted mostly of stories from the past few Sunday's they'd been there. (Sunday's without me; Sunday's they forgot about me.) Shortly after our plates were empty, Mike rid us of our trash and he and Artie bounded over to basketball cage, leaving me alone with Tina.

"How are you liking being back?" she said.

"It's cool," I said.

"Mike never said why you moved," she said.

A minute later, I said, "Antonio got a job offer."

"That's your step dad, right? Didn't he work at the hospital here?"

"The job in Nevada was better, but now the one here is." She nodded. The conversation ended. I shifted. I knew this was my fault: I didn't want to talk; I felt awkward, out of place.

The top part of the wall was clear plastic so the guys could be seen in the cage on the other side; there was three other people in there with them. I watched them take turns shooting for a few minutes. I felt so out of place with Tina.

Mike and Artie ran over to our table and gulped down their drinks. Tina told them how good they were doing and then Mike and Tina started kissing. I glanced at Artie, but he wasn't paying attention. When the two finally pulled away from each other, Mike and Artie went back to the cage.

The ease was gone. I once again felt like I didn't fit with my friends. I couldn't make free conversation with them. I pretty much didn't matter. I was just there; it would've made no difference whether I was there or not. The feeling was even worse than being with strangers. Because these were my friends, but I had the same affect on them: none.

I went to the bathroom; I needed something to focus on. When I got out, Tina was no longer at the table. She was outside the cage watching the guys. I went to sit on the couch. The people around me talked, my friends laughed behind me, but I sat by my lonesome. As the hour passed, I thought I might go crazy.

When I went over to the cage, I had to stand by Tina for a few minutes before the guys moved over to the side; I told them I was leaving.

I headed for my dad's. When I got there, he was already gone to work. I conversed with Eva briefly and then watched tv until Carmen, Eva's daughter, walked in. I sat with them for a while before I relocated to my room.

I pulled out my phone to check the time. I stared at it for a moment. And then I remembered I had someone to talk to. There was someone that could make it better. I called Brittany.

"Hi," a voice answered. Not Brittany's. Similar, but younger. I had learned of Brittany's sister by her stories while she was away, so I asked: "Is this Jackie?"

"Who is this?" she said quickly, suspicious.

"Uh, Santana," I said. A pause.

"Brittany's Santana?" The words went through my mind a few times._ Brittany's Santana_. (I kind of liked the way it sounded.)

"Santana?" I heard in the background. "Gimme the phone!" I heard a giggle. The only sound for the next few minutes was shuffling, and then, clearer, Brittany said, "Santana Marie?" I smiled instantly.

"Brittany," I said. She giggled softly.

"Sorry, Jacks doesn't look. She just answers."

I huffed out a small laugh. "It's okay."

There was some more shuffling and then she said, "What's up?" My smile fell slightly as I remembered why I called.

"You're not busy, are you?"

"Nope. Jacks and I were just playing with Lord Tubbington." Right on cue, I heard a loud_ meow_ in the background. Before I could say anything, I heard Brittany say, "Stop. Go back to the floor with Lord Tubbington."

"I'll let you get back to your sister-"

"No! She's fine."

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said, frowning.

"You're not, Santana Marie."

I sighed. It was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "Are you okay?" I didn't know what to say, because, was I okay? I wasn't good, but I was better than earlier.

"Yeah," I finally said.

"Just a sec." She knew it wasn't true. I wanted to hang up._ I shouldn't have called_, I thought.

I heard the low click of a door.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Uh, my dad's."

And I felt kind of worthless. Kind of pathetic.

I wanted to talk to Brittany, I wanted to let her help, because I was almost certain she could. But I didn't even know where to begin.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"It's..." I shook my head despite the fact that she couldn't see me. "I messed up today, I..." I stopped again. I didn't know what I was saying. Why was I even trying to explain to her? It was completely futile.

They were my friends. They were supposed to be the people I could have fun with but instead I was an idiot and I didn't speak. I didn't do anything.

I felt as if I didn't know how to be around people anymore.

"Tana?" The nickname was odd, and she said it so sweet.

"I'm sorry," I said. I wanted to kick myself.

"Lie down."

"What?"

"Just lie down, okay?"

I did. I moved across my bed, phone still pressed to my ear, and relaxed into the sheets.

"'Imperfection is not our personal problem, it is a natural part of existing,'" she said, "Tara Brach."

And she didn't give me a chance to say anything back – not that I would have come close to knowing what to say – but just continued to talk. About her cat, about her socks, about anything that entered her mind. And soon enough, I fell asleep to her voice.

* * *

Brittany and Quinn came over just before dinner. Antonio was home, and Mom had made enchiladas. Quinn headed in to the kitchen while Brittany and I stayed back. Just for a moment, so she could give me the usual hug. I felt myself wanting to linger, wanting her so close just for a second longer, because I hadn't even seen her the day before. But I pulled back and we followed Quinn into the kitchen.

It had been so long since I had a new friend around, it was a little odd when Mom asked me to set the table. She had always done this, gone a little out of her way to leave a good impression with whatever guest we had. She had done so with Quinn, of course, and all the others, but it only lasted through the second visit. I didn't mind, because I kind of wanted to do it for Brittany.

So I set the table, putting Brittany's plate in front of her first and then moving around the table while Mom followed after me, serving and then putting the spare in the middle. I sat next to Brittany.

"You look nice, by the way," she said, low, like it was only meant for me. And even though I was highly aware of my little black dress, I looked down. I fought the smile that wanted to break out as the heat spread over my cheeks.

"Thanks," I said, and managed to throw her a quick smile.

I couldn't completely blame my clothing choice on the fact that Mom required me to wear something "nice." I had spent a little too long figuring out what to wear.

Brittany had been the only person I'd met who was so good, yet so bad with words. Quinn was the kind of person who was good with parents, and people in general, really. My parents loved her. And, though I caught the strange looks taking over their faces at the odd comments, I knew they liked Brittany, too.

Shortly after dinner Antonio left for work and Brittany, Quinn, and I settled into the living room. We loaded Netflix and I fell down onto the couch. Quinn ran off back into the kitchen to grab us some drinks and Brittany was sitting on the floor, moving through the movies to find a good one to watch.

"I can see your underwear." My head snapped up to Quinn as she walked back into the room. I jumped up from the couch.

"Maybe you shouldn't be looking!" I snapped.

She laughed and said, "Why are you on the floor, B?" Brittany looked up at me where I stood stiff in front of the couch. She shrugged.

Quinn handed each of us a drink and then sat to my right. I sat back down as Brittany sat to my left. I could feel her at my side, so close our arms brushed.

* * *

A splitting headache brought me into consciousness. I was stretched across the middle couch with Brittany and Quinn each on their own to my left and right. The minutes passed, an hour. The slow drilling in my head refused to fizzle out. Sleep was gone.

I finally got up from the couch, moving up the stairs to the bathroom, stripping free of my clothes as soon as the door was closed behind me. Water gushed out of the faucet hitting the base of the bathtub, splashing, creating sound in the dead of the night. I turned the cold to not be scalded, stepped in, closed the curtain, let the steam fill the room. The pain slowly subsided as the water washed over me.

I was unaware of the knocking that soon started until I heard something. I listened.

"Santana Marie?" Brittany said. I didn't move. I remained still, letting the water crash onto my shoulders. "Are you in there?"

I stepped out. The stabbing in my head returned progressively. There was another knock as I moved to the door. I opened it and there stood Brittany. It took me a fraction of a second to pull out of my haze and become conscious of what I was wearing: nothing.

I swung the door closed as quickly as I could and spun around, falling back against it. My head throbbed harder.

"What's wrong?" Brittany said.

I twisted to grab the towel hanging on the back of the door.

"Please open the door."

I wrapped it around myself tight. I couldn't decide if I really wanted to open it or not. Had she seen me? Was she just waiting to go to the bathroom? But there was a bathroom downstairs...

I opened the door slowly, looking at the ground.

"Are you okay?" My eyes traveled up to Brittany's, catching an odd look in them before I looked away. She stepped forward.

"I... have a headache," I said slowly, still hazy. She, again, stepped closer. Her hand made its way to my shoulder and she leaned toward me. "Wha-" the words caught in my throat as her lips tenderly pressed to my forehead.

My body went rigid. My heart thudded along with my head. Her arm moved as she pulled back, slipping around my neck as the other moved up, following the action. My arms automatically began to snake around her waist.

I had never felt something so good as her arms.

And then she began to explain: "My mom says the cure for a headache is kisses. She always kisses our foreheads when we have a headache."

I shifted my head against her shoulder in a nod. I didn't want to let go. And she didn't seem to mind. I didn't know how long we continued to stand there because I was lost in comfort; my eyes were closed as I rested against her, breathing her in. When I shifted against her shoulder again, she started pulling back. I tightened my hold without meaning to; she paused a moment before pulling back.

My towel began to slip. Her hands shot forward, holding it against me as she giggled. Looking down, I secured the material around me and her hands moved back to her sides. I caught myself looking at her, but before I could look away, she softly said, "What?"

"Nothing," I said, "I uhm... nothing." But it was everything. It was everything because of her gentleness; it was everything because of the way she was looking at me; it was everything because..._fuck_.

"Get dressed and we'll go back downstairs, 'kay?" I nodded, but I so desperately wanted to cling to her, keep her arms around me.

I stepped back into the bathroom and Brittany closed it behind me. I moved over to the counter before I dropped the towel and opened my drawer to pull out a tank top and shorts. Bad decision. I looked up to the mirror and cringed. I got stuck, looking at myself in disgust. Brittany had seen me like this: no makeup, worse than ever. And before she almost saw me naked, too.

I moved quickly, tugging my shirt over my head and then stepping into the leg holes of my shorts and pulling them up. I avoided the mirror. I turned off the still running shower and moved back to the door, returning the towel to the hook on the back of the door before opening it. Brittany was still there; she looked up and smiled. I looked away.

"You should dry your hair." I felt the droplets of water seep into my shirt. I stiffly turned to reach for the towel. "Here, let me." She pulled the towel away and I looked back to my feet. When her finger brushed against my forehead, moving some hair from my face, I squeezed my eyes tight. I stepped back.

"I got it," I said, pulling the towel out of her hand. Her brows furrowed slightly but she didn't say anything. I dried my hair and then we walked back down to the living room. I could feel my head pound with every step.

Quinn was still sound asleep on her couch. Brittany and I moved to the middle one, her following and sitting next to me after I sat. Before I knew what was happening, she pulled me against her.

"Put your legs up," she instructed. I bent my legs and lifted them to the couch, pushing a little more into her.

My head was thumping; my heart was thumping. It was the second night in a row she was taking care of me._ Why am I so pathetic?_ I thought.

Brittany gently guided my head toward her, and I couldn't stop the sigh that exited as my forehead found a place nuzzled against her shoulder. Words were over for the night. And I slowly stopped worrying, forgetting about_ I think I like her_ and let the comfort take over.

* * *

I thought I was dreaming when I felt that newly familiar feeling on my forehead. But when I opened my eyes, there she was: Brittany pulled away slowly and gave a bright smile.

"I wanted to give you extra headache protection," she said. Quinn walked in the room and Brittany stood from where she was crouching in front of me. I slid my legs off the couch and sat up.

"Look who's up!" Quinn said. I grumbled a little in response. Brittany giggled and my eyes moved back to her.

"Go get ready," Quinn said, "we're going to the park out by the lake." I remembered how horrible I must have looked and quickly made my way out of the room.

The majority of the group was already at the park atop the hill when we got there. Brittany was the first to jump out, running to the others. Quinn and I followed after her, going to the table where lunch was waiting. The stone benches were filled with people and the matching table covered with boxes of pizza.

The boxes were opened and everyone reached for a slice – most only getting one because there were no plates.

"Puckzilla is here!" came from behind me. Everyone glanced back to see Puck walking over to the table. He snatched a slice of pizza and then he was standing next to me.

"How ya doin'?" he asked with a cocky grin. Before I could say anything, I felt something against my hand. I looked down: Brittany was linking our pinky's. I looked up to her.

"Do you wanna feed the birds with me, Santana Marie?" I smiled and answered with an, "Okay."

We walked down a ways past the playground and began to tear off the crust of our pizza to throw to the birds. We did this for a while until we ran out and then returned to the table.

Kurt was sitting at one of the ends of the table next to Blaine. Most of the others were in a big group discussion about who knows what – but, at the opposite end of the table was a not so happy looking Karofsky. Most of the time I'd seen him around he'd be talking to Puck or one of the other football guys, and once in a while I'd catch him talking to Kurt, but that was the first time I had seen him sitting quiet, looking upset. I said nothing and let Brittany lead me over by Quinn.

The whole group was stuffed with food by the time we decided to head down to the cabin-like bed and breakfast. Quinn had gotten us the key so we got in our cars and drove down the hill and headed in. Our destination was the lounge room with the large table. We scattered around in a messy circle, some sitting in chairs and some taking a spot on the table.

"Truth or dare time!" Artie called out. Mike moved over to the radio and connected his iPod.

"I'll go first!" Sam called out. "All right, Puck!" All eyes in the room shift between the two. "Truth or dare?"

Puck scoffed. "Dare, bitch!"

"I dare you to... exchange clothes with the person to your left." When nobody moved, Sam looked to his side. "Shit."

"Real nice, dipshit," Puck said.

"We can just-"

"Uh-uh, a dare is a dare!" Mercedes chimed in. Both Sam and Puck groaned, which led Brittany to lead the chanting of "Do it! Do it!"

"I'm not doing underwear!" Puck said before the two began to remove their clothes. I couldn't help but join in on the cheers. When both were down to boxers, they awkwardly traded clothes and then dressed before sitting back down.

"Quinn," Puck said, "truth or dare?"

"Dare," Quinn said.

Puck smirked and said, "I dare you to go around and get spanked by everyone in this room." Quinn raised an eyebrow in an_ are you serious?_ manner.

It seemed like the most awkward thing to do. Walk around and let people slap your ass. But she did it – or, really, we did.

"Truth or dare?" Quinn said to Rachel; Rachel looked around nervously for a moment before answering, "Truth."

The game went on, most being brave enough to pick a dare. I had gone through watching Mike shave all the hair from Puck's left leg, Tina and Mike make out, Kurt make out with both Blaine and Karofsky, Quinn and Mercedes kiss, seeing an ass I never wanted to see, and being dared to be blindfolded for the rest of the game before it happened.

"Truth or dare?" Puck said to Brittany.

"Dare," Brittany said confidently. It was quiet for a moment, aside from a few quiet whispers and the new song starting, and then I felt something on my shoulder.

"Turn this way," Brittany said. I was sitting on the table with one leg dangling down onto the bench. Brittany guided me as I shuffled to turn toward her.

"Go on," Puck said – the amusement was evident in his voice. I worried, for a moment, what he dared her to do. But it was Brittany. I trusted her enough to calm myself.

And then I felt her close – I could feel her breath against my face. I couldn't take it, I opened my mouth to get some answers – but then, I felt something. The light pressure under my chin tilted my head up, then something connected with my chin; something warm and... wet. My body froze and my eyes bulged beneath the handkerchief. It trailed up, so slowly, and when it reached my bottom lip I finally realized what it was. My jaw twitched. It became so hard to breathe.

I clamped my eyes shut as the shivers traveled through my body. But she continued, and I thought I was going to pass out. I fought the noise trying to escape as it glided over my tongue, which seemed to grow its own mind and poke out, meeting Brittany's chin for just a moment. Up, across the roof of my mouth, over my top lip – gone.

But I could still feel her close, her hot breath hitting my face.

"Hot," Puck, and maybe a few of the others, said.

"Oh my god, Britt!" Quinn laughed. "Gross!" The room burst into laughter. My face burned. I wanted to rip the cloth blocking my vision away. I wanted to leave. My whole body burned.

I felt something brush against my hand._ Brittany?_ Her fingers trailed over my hand softly; I relaxed slightly at her touch. I hadn't realized I had been holding onto anything, or how tightly. I moved my hand below her fingers slightly – the tension was back. I had been death gripping her leg. I snatched my hand back. I felt her fingers graze it again, trying to get it back, but I moved, scrambling off the table.

"I'm thirsty," I said.

"You can't take that off!" Artie protested as I reached up to remove the handkerchief.

"I'm done playing," I said, ripping it away. I dropped it to the floor and walked toward the counter to get a drink.

* * *

**So, this is the end of part 1, which will be the shortest. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**I'm extremely sorry for the amount of time I took since the last chapter. I've been working on it, I've just been having trouble thinking and concentrating and then I was traveling. Lucky for you, the whole rant in my head disappeared so I don't have that to leave. I will try to get started on the next chapter and get it up soon!**


	5. Part 2: Feelings

**Do vd Graaf: **Very sorry for the wait. I will try to get started on the next chapter and put it up soon.

**nayalove: **I wouldn't make Brittany dumb, because I don't think she is! I'm glad you like them.

**JadedAndBitter:** Hopefully this one was, too.

**MonkeyAbooRat: **Thanks, I'll see what I can do with that :)

**NayaNewss: **Here's an update, finally. So sorry for the wait!

**Thank you for you reviews and/or adding to alerts favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

**Part 2**

**Chapter 5: Feelings**

I spent the next few hours avoiding, well, everyone. Not that it was hard because they were busy in talking and playing games.

"Hey." Her voice was soft and I felt my body tremble at the thought of what had occurred. My mind was spinning with the thought of it. I still wasn't too sure what exactly had happened.

"Hey," I said back, not looking her way.

I wasn't sure what to do; the dare seemed to have sent fog into my brain.

I knew she was looking at me. I knew she was waiting; waiting for me to look back at her. But I couldn't, not then, not after what happened. Whatever it was that happened. My mind wouldn't allow me to think it through.

It was silent for a moment before she asked, "Are you okay?"

I glanced at her then, quick. I caught her eyes and I instantly felt bad for my half ignoring her. But I wasn't sure what I could say, what I could do.

"Yeah, fine," I replied.

There was movement in the corner of my eye; Brittany shifted, looked down.

We were quiet, letting only the sounds of the party behind us enter our ears.

Then Brittany spoke: "'In any given moment we have two options: to step forward into growth or to step back into safety.' Abraham Maslow."

And walked off.

* * *

The party took off without me – the music buzzing, the bodies moving, the drinks being consumed.

Mike strolled past me, but stopped just on my other side. He flashed a smile and offered a beer which I declined. He then asked to dance, but I again denied. He nodded and we stood in silence for a few moments before he decided to rejoin the others.

A while later, Brittany came bouncing my way. A bright smile was planted on her face, softening as she reached me.

"Wanna drink?" Brittany asked, presenting the beer in her hand to me. Without waiting for an answer, she slipped the drink into my hand; my eyes were glued to our hands while hers continued watching my face. I took a sip before handing it back. Her smile remained intact as she herself took a sip before offering the bottle to me once again. I tipped it back, draining what was left. I heard Brittany giggle as I lowered the bottle and my eyes widened at the sight I did not expect to see.

I quickly discarded the empty bottle behind me before reaching out to stop Brittany's hands, which had her shirt almost all the way over her head. She struggled a little, but I managed to pull her shirt back down.

"S'taaaanaa," she whined, pouting. I couldn't contain the smile that appeared on my face. Brittany's pout disappeared and she began to giggle again.

"How much have you had to drink?" I questioned. She shrugged, giving a careless, "I dunno" in return.

There was a pause as she looked at me before she said, "Dance with me."

"Britt...," I started.

"Nobody's gonna care." I knew that. They were my friends and most of them were far beyond Brittany's state of intoxication, but there was still the "what if." What if they remembered it later, and they thought something of it? And to the real issue: my mind was still spinning from earlier – and that was before everyone started really drinking.

I didn't think I could handle it, or even make myself try – but then, Brittany took my hands in hers, grinning at me sweetly.

"Just right here," she almost whispered, beginning to sway our arms.

She pulled me in closer, away from the counter. I was still focused on the warmth of her hands in mine, but when she pulled me even closer, to where our bodies were almost touching, I sputtered out, "W-why were you taking your shirt off?"

She shrugged, bounced our hands, and replied, "I felt like it." I let out a quiet laugh that turned into a squeak when Brittany pulled me against her and twirled us around. She giggled again, continuing to bounce us around for a while.

She slowed our movements and said, "I'm glad you're happy again." I said nothing because I was upset with my failure to hide my little freak out earlier. They had all noticed and all I could do was wish they would forget about it; it was nothing.

Just as I felt Brittany's arms snake around me, pulling me into a hug, there was a voice. Without letting go, Brittany looked to the side. Due to the interruption, I wasn't able to return the hug; instead I stood stiff and looked over.

"Care to dance, Britt?" Artie asked. Brittany looked to me and I gave the best smile I could.

"Hope you don't mind," Artie said to me.

"Yeah, no, go ahead," I responded, trying to back out of Brittany's embrace. She stood in place for a moment and gave me one last look before allowing Artie to pull her away. I watched them until they began to blend in with the others.

As much as I hadn't wanted Brittany to make me dance with her, I was sad that she was gone again. Away from me, dancing with someone else. But I was to blame.

* * *

The quantity of drinks consumed became less - mostly due to the lack of drinks left - which resulted in Brittany being able to sober up enough for me to get her home with little trouble. I dropped her off, getting the usual hug before she exited my car, and headed home.

The greeting I received upon entering my house at around seven was, "You're late."

Antonio had been home early enough to have dinner with us. And luckily, even though Mom accused me of being late, I wasn't really. I retrieved my plate from the counter and joined Mom and Antonio at the table. I hadn't felt like eating, though I felt slightly hungry, because my mind was still cluttered. I nibbled and listened to Antonio talk about work and all the renovations the hospital was undergoing until retreating to my room.

Somewhere along the way, my mind geared into the other stage #1 - the voidance of emotion. The earlier swirling in my head had vanished and I just didn't know. I didn't know what I felt, and I still couldn't make sense of the day.

My solution, of course, was loud music and running. Setting off in the dark, I ran until I had to stop. Somehow, my resting spot ended up being the empty motocross field. I walked over with my tired legs to a spot near the middle; the spot in which Brittany and I had sat. The gas station down the road on the main street was already closed, so my throat remained dry. The stars were out, shining brightly, so I focused on them as I relaxed.

After an unknown amount of time, I returned home. My body exceeded my minds exhaustion and as soon as I reached my room I collapsed into my bed and let sleep wash over me.

* * *

I lay in bed for a few minutes, feeling the becoming of soreness in my legs. When I finally decided to get up, I reached for my phone, finding it after a little searching among the covers. I noticed the time: 11:02 (it seemed too early to be up), and then checked the awaiting messages. I opened the one from Brittany first.

**Brittany:** _Morning Santana Marie_

I had a lazy smile as I replied _Afternoon, Britt. How'd you sleep? _and moved on to the text from Quinn.

**Quinn:** _Come over later?_

**Me: **_Sure. Have something planned?_

I dragged myself down the hall to my bathroom and into the bathroom when my phone buzzed.

**Brittany:** _I thought I was the one that drank last night. But I was up earlier than you_

**Me:** _That's because you always get up crazy early_

I jumped in the shower; two texts were waiting for me when I got out.

**Brittany: **_It's not crazy! I just don't stay in bed all day like you_

**Me: **_The bed wants me to stay_

**Brittany: **_I'm sure it does_

**Me: **_Are you going over to Quinn's?_

**Quinn: **_Thought we could just hang out._

**Me: **_Sure, I'll be over. When?_

**Brittany: **_My mom wants me to stay home because I've been out so much..._

**Me: **_Oh_

I headed downstairs to grab a water and something to eat.

**Quinn:** _Whenever is good. I have to help out with a few things but I'll be here_

**Me: **_Be over soon_

It was almost time for lunch so I decided to just snag the water and wait to eat with Quinn. I quickly let Mom know I was going out before heading out the door and to my car.

**Brittany: **_Have fun a Q's. I'll be spending the day with Lord T and Jacks_

**Me: **_Yeah, you too_

* * *

Quinn was walking along the sidewalk when I got to her place. She walked over as I exited my car, greeting me with a casual "Hey."

"All done with maid duty?" I joked, pushing my door closed.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah."

"Hey Santana!" I looked to my right to see Quinn's mom waving at me. I gave a small smile and waved back before she turned to walk in the opposite direction.

Quinn gave me a small push and we headed inside - straight to the kitchen because she, of course, knew I hadn't had lunch yet.

"I was hoping you didn't take too long; I wasn't gonna wait for you all day to eat," she commented. I remained quiet as she began to riffle through the fridge.

Quinn's mom walked into the house and came up to my side saying, "How have you been?" I answered with the usual "Okay" and listened to Quinn and her mom talk about lunch.

When the bread, chicken, tomatoes, condiments and a few other things were set out on the table I took my plate and threw a sandwich together. When Quinn was done with her own, she moved on to drinks. There were a few Kool-Aid Jammers pouches that we decided to drink up.

While Quinn went on a search for chips I stood by the counter and, after poking my straw in, began to drink my first pouch of Kool-Aid. There was a small knock and Quinn poked her head out from the pantry to call out, "Come in!" I almost choked on my drink when I glanced over.

Brittany had a smile on her face as she approached me while I quickly moved to place the pouch behind me on the counter. She didn't say anything until she was right in front of me. She moved closer and said, "What were you drinking?"

When I opened my mouth to say "Nothing," nothing came out and I settled for shaking my head. She smiled just a little bit more, almost smirk-like as she leaned in closer. With her face right in front of mine, I fought to keep my eyes normal sized. I felt her arm at my side and then after a moment the Kool-Aid pouch was presented in front of my face.

"So this isn't yours?" Brittany teased.

Before I could try to stutter any words out, Quinn returned to the kitchen and Brittany swiveled around to her side. She took the straw of the pouch in her mouth and sucked out the remaining juice.

"Oh, Hey Britt," Quinn greeted.

"Hey," Brittany responded, smiling brightly.

I wondered why she was there because from when we had talked earlier it sounded like she couldn't come over. Not that I wasn't happy to see her; I don't know if seeing Brittany could ever be a bad thing.

Arms wrapping around me brought me out of my thoughts. My mind went blank for a moment as I stiffened, but then I relaxed into Brittany's arms. "I had to get my hug from you, Santana Marie," she told me quietly. A smile broke out onto my face.

It wasn't until she walked out the door and Quinn said we should move to the couch to watch a movie that I noticed how fast my heart was beating. I licked my dry lips before following Quinn to sit down and watch the movie.

* * *

Quinn and I had spent the afternoon watching movies and having occasional random conversations. I was invited to stay for dinner, which I did, and then asked about staying the night which I also agreed to. I had nothing better to do and I could use the company; I felt like I was starting to get comfortable around Quinn again.

Sometime during the night, we both ended up reading. Quinn was reading It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini; I was reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. When I reached page 69, something caught my eye. I re-read it about four times before grabbing my phone and tapping away at the screen. Before I even knew what I was doing, I hit send.

**Me: **_"And she hugged me. And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms." - The Perks of Being a Wallflower._

All I had been thinking about was Brittany. Because of earlier, the way she hugged me - the way she always did and the way it always felt so good. I had never been much of a hug person, but I enjoyed Brittany's so much that sometimes I wish I could just stay in her arms forever. And then I read that.

I locked my phone and set it by my side before stiffening, thinking about what I had just done.

When I heard my phone go off, I didn't look.

When we went to bed, I didn't really sleep.

* * *

I woke up early the next morning. After eating breakfast with Quinn and her family, Quinn decided to go with me to my dad's. I avoided checking my messages until we walked in the house.

**Brittany:** _"That's who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of." - John Green_

_Good morning Santana Marie_

**Artie:** _Wassup? We need to hang!_

"Hola chicas!" I looked up to see Eva walking out of the kitchen with a smile.

"Hey Eva," Quinn greeted.

I returned my gaze to my phone, reading over Brittany's texts once more. I smiled at the usual good morning text despite my lack of response from last night; although, considering the content, I figured a reply wasn't awaited. Brittany replied in the way I needed her to, as always.

Seeing as it was morning and I was actually up, I replied to Brittany.

**Me: **_G'morning Britt Britt_

"Santana?" My head snapped up at the sound of my name. My eyes were met with a smile and a quirked eyebrow from Eva.

"Hey," I said. Both Eva and Quinn let out a laugh as I continued to stand there.

**Me: **_Quinn and I are over at my dads_

Eva's smile turned into a smirk as she said, "Who're you texting?" and passed me to sit on the living room couch.

**Brittany: **_It's always a good morning when I hear from you_

**Artie: **_Lima bean sun?_

"Um, Artie," I answered, replying to Brittany.

**Me:**_ I'd think that those days would be bad ones_

"Artie, hmm?" Eva said.

"He wants to know if I'm up for the Lima Bean Sunday," I told Quinn.

**Brittany: **_Nope. Definitely the good ones_

"Well you know I can't," Quinn said. I sent Brittany a quick text (_I should start getting up early_) before replying to Artie (_I'm down)._

"So what are you girls up to today?" Eva asked.

"Nothing yet," Quinn answered.

"Where's papá?" I questioned.

"Toni is off to work," Eva said. "You actually just missed him."

**Brittany:** _Why do you say that, Santana Marie?_

"I guess I'll just try to drop by tonight," I said.

**Me: **_To help you have good days, of course!_

"Hang around if you want. Carmen is coming by soon."

"I think Quinn and I will head off, maybe find something to do," I said. "But I'll be back tonight."

"Have fun girls. Don't get in too much trouble," Eva laughed.

"It was nice to see you again, Eva," Quinn called as we walked out the door.

* * *

Not much happened after I left my dad's house. Quinn and I had driven around for a while until she got a text from Rachel asking if we wanted to go shopping. Quinn agreed and I drove her over to Kurt's house even though I myself decided not to join them. Instead, I drove to my house. I would have continued to drive around by myself, but I was more focused on continuing my conversation with Brittany.

Brittany and I talked for a while until she had to go help make lunch; her explanation was that the last time she tried to text and cook at the same time her phone ended up being cooked into the food. We left off with goodbyes and a promise to talk later.

The obvious question would be why I decided to spend the lovely afternoon alone instead of shopping with my friends. Great question, not so great answer. Firstly, I had been pretty content with talking to Brittany so at the time I didn't really need anything else. Secondly, I hadn't felt like dealing with being around people; I hadn't felt like putting on the smile and making sure I looked happy for all of them.

The result of my decision ended up being lunch with Mom. Which, really, wasn't bad. She was decent company, so I didn't have many complaints. The only complaint being the fact that I had a certain blonde on my mind the whole time (not to say that is entirely a bad thing).

* * *

After a few hours of mindless TV watching, I headed over to my dad's for dinner; he was excited to have me there to help him cook. (We managed to move around the kitchen with Eva trying to make dessert at the same time without making too big of a mess.)

Conversation was light - in the sense of easy as well as there wasn't much. Because it was mainly due to everyone being busy with eating, it picked up as we cleaned up.

With everything from dinner taken care of, we returned to the living room. As I tried to pay attention to the screen, I noticed my dad had fallen asleep. It wasn't a surprise because, really, I don't think he even watched TV anymore - or much, seeing as the result was always him falling asleep after a few minutes.

When Eva finally got my dad to wake up and move to their bedroom, I headed to my own.

I could only sit there and watch TV for so long before my mind needed an escape. I put my earphones in, turned the music on, and headed out the door.

Due to being at Dad's house, the run was longer. Not that I noticed, because I hadn't even noticed where I was heading - back to the motocross field.

I stopped at the edge of the field, taking deep breaths and looking across the track. After a moment I realized that this time, since I had taken my run earlier than the last time, the nearby station was still open. I walked over and into the store just in time; after I paid for my water they closed.

I took a few sips of water before walking back to the field, to the same spot in the field as the previous night(s).

* * *

When I reached the field the next night, I noticed something in my (and Brittany's?) spot. I got closer, squinting a little in the dark, and realized it was a blanket. It was a nice looking red and black plaid blanket. I looked around, checking if anyone was around, but I saw nothing. I considered sitting on it, but decided not to and instead sat beside it and drank some water.

I lay back, relaxing into the dirt, and closed my eyes.

* * *

I returned to the field Saturday night. The blanket was still there, but there was something different.

Near the middle of the field was the blanket; Near the middle of the blanket was a rose.

I continued to look down at it for a few moments before I, again, looked around to see if anybody was near. But there was no one.

It was strange that I had lived there so many years yet I had never been to - or even known of - the field before then. It felt special, somehow, but of course other people knew about it. I figured someone must have been meeting there at night. Meeting there in our spot. (I couldn't help the strange feeling I got when I thought about Brittany bringing someone else there.)

I hadn't run into anyone so my mind came to the conclusion that they were meeting after I was there - either later, or really early. I tried to ignore the thoughts about one of those people being Brittany.

* * *

"Santana!" My mind faintly heard the sound of my name.

"Santana!" My eyes opened slowly.

I rolled over on to my side and reached my phone. I glanced at the time - it was already 4:34 - before checking my texts. The first, of course, was my morning text from Brittany which I replied to quickly. The next was from Artie: _Meet up at 6? Rachel planned a karaoke night_

**Me: **_Sounds good_

"Sa-" I cut off Mom's call with a grumbled, "I'm up!"

I took a shower and got dressed before shuffling down the stairs while exchanging texts with Brittany.

When I reached the kitchen Mom turned her head to glance at me before reaching up and pulling plates out of the cabinet and saying "It's dinner time."

I helped Mom serve dinner and we joined Antonio in the living room. Even though I had an explanation for the lack of food on my plate - I would be going to the Lima Bean soon so I didn't want to eat too much before I got there because there was a high chance we would end up getting something there - neither Mom nor Antonio said anything about it.

* * *

As I was leaving my house, I got a text from Quinn asking me to swing by her place.

When I pulled up to her house, all the lights were out. I pulled out my phone to text her but before I could even pull her name up I saw her walking toward the car. After she was in and buckled I drove away and back to town.

"I thought you couldn't make it?" I said.

"My dad's at work and my mom's asleep so I snuck out," she explained.

"Huh. Nice one."

"Get me home in a few hours and they won't even notice."

The remainder of the ride was mostly silence.

We were the last ones to arrive at the Lima Bean, and when we entered the building everyone cheered. Before I knew it, Quinn, who was at my side, was replaced with Brittany. And then I was engulfed in her arms.

It started off as a squeeze-your-guts-out bear hug and transitioned into my favorite, perfect, Brittany hug. She looked up with a soft smile and said, "I missed you."

"Me too," I mumbled, trying to contain my smile.

"Come on guys!" Rachel shouted.

Brittany pulled back and we both looked over to see Rachel trying to get everyone to settle around the little stage. Once she finally got the group's attention, she stepped behind the mic with a large smile in place.

"Thank you all for agreeing to participate in karaoke night," Rachel began, "I thought it would be a good preparation for going back to Glee club. And I thought I would get things started. So, I've decided to sing..."

I began to tune out as Brittany led us over to the couch. I had to admit Rachel had a pretty good voice, but with Brittany sitting so close to me, it was hard to really focus on her.

My eyes stayed trained Brittany, watching her as she watched the stage and took in the sound. She seemed to have enjoyed the performance, though I have to admit she looked a tad bored. But then Tina and Mike stepped up to the stage. I was slightly surprised when Mike joined Tina, even as little as it was, in singing. His not so great singing skills had improved.

As Mike and Tina sang and danced, I alternated between watching Brittany and watching them. It wasn't hard to tell Brittany enjoyed this performance way more than the other. Maybe it was the dancing.

I noticed the way she watched them, and then I watched them as they interacted. It was something to enjoy because it really was good, but it only made me think about how I almost didn't even fit anymore. Not there, with them. Not when Mike had Tina and everyone seemed to be perfectly fine without me when I had certainly not been fine without them (not that I planned to ever admit it).

I soon found myself lost in the performance, lost in the thoughts. And then I felt something, someone. Someone watching me - Brittany watching me.

I turned to her and she gave me a sweet smile. She tried to keep the eye contact, but almost as soon as I saw it I looked away. I couldn't, not then.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly. I shook my head.

Her finger touched my chin and before I could move away she lifted it and then rested her hand next to me on the back of the couch.

"Santana Marie." Her voice was still soft.

I took a moment before I glanced up to her blues and decided to talk.

"It's just I- I don't know how I fit here anymore. I almost feel like they're not my friends anymore..." my voiced trailed off as I noticed the slightly furrowed eyebrows and the kind eyes of Brittany.

I tried to shuffle backwards, but Brittany reached out and grabbed the back of my neck and I was frozen in place. Her gentle hand receded to my cheek as she began to speak.

"Do you remember that day at McDonald's?"

"Yeah, but-"

"We had a lot of fun, right?"

"That was-"

"Fun."

A small smile made it's way onto my face as Brittany began to smile again.

"I had fun with you," I said.

"The others were there, too. They were so happy to see you."

I shook my head slightly.

"Artie was always talking about you. And Quinn always told me you were her best friend."

"I'm getting there with Quinn, I think. Maybe. And Artie, well... But Mike-"

Her thumb glided over my cheek as she cut me off again. "He's still your friend, Santana Marie." I began to frown at her; she didn't get it. Before I could say, or do, anything, she inched closer. "What they have is just different." She glanced over to Mike and Tina. "Just look at how sweet he is to her."

"I understand that," I almost whispered. "I just can't help feeling out of place."

"We all care about you," she replied, just as quiet, beginning to move her fingers.

I couldn't look at her, even as her finger trailed so sweetly down my jawline. I closed my eyes as the shivers traveled through me. I could feel her breath against my skin. And then breathing got harder.

My eyes fluttered open. She was right there. She caught my eyes that time. When she glanced down it was quick; her eyes were back on mine before I could look away. It was almost like I could feel her against my lips. And I don't know what I wanted, or thought, before... but that was the first time; the first time I wanted to kiss Brittany.

My breath caught in my throat and I moved back, coughing.

* * *

After I dropped Quinn off and got home it was already midnight. My head was spinning with Brittany again.

The house was dark; Mom had already gone to sleep. Without doing anything else, I headed for my room to change.

I needed to clear my head.

* * *

I jogged to a stop at the field, pulling my earphones out as I walked my way to the middle. The gas station was already closed so I was left with no water.

What I found cleared the thought from my mind. The blanket was there with something in the middle again. Instead of a flower, though, there was paper. I sat down next to the blanket as I had the nights before. After a moment I reached over for the paper. It read:

"_Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym." - Stephen King_

And then I knew. It was Brittany. I could feel my stomach begin to twist, but then-

"You're not alone." I jumped at the sound. My eyes began to grow wide as Brittany moved onto the blanket on my side.

"B-Brittany," I stuttered.

"Santana Marie," she said with a smile.

While I stared, she opened her mouth again. "You may feel like you're alone, but you're not. Even if you didn't have your friends, you have me."

It was silent, and everything stood still for a moment as I looked at her.

"I have you," I whispered. I was saying it more to myself than to Brittany, but I couldn't regret letting it slip out when she smiled so big in response.

"Now come over here, silly. I don't know why you're on the dirt when there's a nice blanket here for you."

I laughed and began to scoot onto the blanket as Brittany scooted to the other side to give me room. We smiled at each other for a few moments before I thought of something.

"I'm- were you here to meet someone?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," she giggled.

My stomach dropped. "I'm sor-"

"You."

"What?"

"I came here to meet you."

The blanket, the flower, the note; it was for me and instead of realizing it, I felt bad thinking it was for someone else.

"How did you...?"

"I came by the other night," she explained. "I was gonna get my bike and go around the track a few times. But then... I saw you."

"I didn't mean to keep you from using it," I said. "Why didn't you say something?"

She smiled. "I didn't want to interrupt." There was a comfortable silence before she spoke again. "I came by and put the blanket here for you just in case you came back. And then you didn't sit on it."

"I didn't want to sit on something that wasn't mine. I didn't know."

We both laughed and Brittany guided us to lie on our backs.

"I've always...," I began, looking up to the stars, "wanted a place. Like what people always talk about - the place they go to clear their head and just... be." I took a breath. "I've never had one. And then you brought me here and when I went for a run the other night I ended up back here. This spot, under the stars, it just feels..."

"Nice," she finished. I could feel her eyes on me so I turned my head her way. "I've always liked to come here," she revealed, quieter.

"I never knew about it. I'm sorry if I intruded-"

"I brought you here, remember?" she said. When I smiled she continued with, "I wanted to share it with you."

"Thank you."

I looked back to the stars and Brittany shuffled closer until our sides were touching.

"They actually use this track," she informed. "I raced here a few times."

I looked her way.

"I did really good, actually. I made it to the finals."

"Wow," I said. "That's amazing, Brittany!" She smiled proudly for a moment. I didn't have to ask for her to know I wanted more info.

"My parents won't let me go."

"What?" I exclaimed, sitting up. She smiled sadly and pulled me back down.

"It's in Sardis and they don't want to go that far."

Brittany's hold on my arm prevented me from sitting all the way up, so I sat in a weird almost sitting position.

"But, I mean, can't you go with your car?"

She shrugged. "They think it's too far."

"But you made it. How can they... when is it?"

"Uh, tomorrow?"

"I'll take you."

"What?"

Brittany released her grip on me and I sat up fully, followed by her sitting up next to me.

"I'll take you there."

She smiled at me. "It's too late. It's really early."

"So we'll go now."

"Santana..."

I moved to my knees and leaned close to her. "I'll take you, Britt. We can go right now and you can show everyone how amazing you are."

She laughed and gave a nod before pulling me into a hug.

* * *

Brittany gave me a ride back to my house because she had her car and all I had was my feet.

I thought about having her go to her house since we had to take her car back anyway, but she needed a shower as well and I didn't want her to get caught at her house; there was no way I was leaving without having a shower. I let Brittany use my bathroom and went down to use the one downstairs.

I finished first and gathered a few things before I noticed Brittany making her way down. She smiled down at me before she turned with the stairs.

We made a quick trip with me following Brittany to her house. She made a quick run to grab her motocross bag and then hopped in my car and we set off.

* * *

We arrived in Sardis with approximately an hour before the races would start. Brittany was asleep; I decided not to wake her until I found the track. After about five minutes of driving through town I made it into the packed parking lot.

I leaned over, placed a hand on Brittany's shoulder and shook her gently. Her eyes opened slowly, a tired smile spreading across her face when she turned to me.

"We're here, Britt-Britt," I informed. She perked up, sitting straighter with excited eyes.

Brittany quickly jumped out of the car before I could say anything else. I smiled and reached for my door, but it was already opening.

"Hurry up!" she urged, practically dragging me out of my seat. "We have to go register and everything!"

I laughed. "Calm down, Britt. You said it didn't start till eight o'clock, right? We've got an hour."

She pouted. "There are a lot of people at these races, Santana Marie."

"Okay, okay," I surrendered. Her pout began to disappear. "Well let's go!"

Brittany jumped up and latched onto my hand, propelling us both in the direction of the registration booths.

While Brittany talked to the lady at the booth and got all the paperwork she needed, I looked around. I had never been to an actual race, so I had to give myself a moment to just observe.

What interrupted my observing wasn't something I could really complain about. One second I was looking around at the people moving through the crowd while Brittany signed her name and whatever else the forms required, and the next I felt soft lips on my cheek. My eyes instantly grew wide.

When I looked to my side, though, Brittany had her back to me as she turned in the forms. I just stood, staring at her back.

* * *

I knew Brittany felt sad that she wouldn't be able to use her own bike for the competition. She told me it was fine, but as I stood to the side while she changed into her gear, all I could do was feel bad that I hadn't even thought of it and that I wasn't able to bring it for her (there was no way I could have gotten it there with my car).

"It's not that big of a deal, Santana Marie. I can rent one," she told me. She seemed to genuinely be fine with it after a while, but I still convinced her to let me pay for the rental.

* * *

"Thank you, Santana Marie," Brittany said. We had just gotten her bike and were heading toward the track. We had about twenty minutes before the races started, but they had called for the racers to get ready on the track.

I was nervous; more nervous than Brittany, I think.

Brittany left my side and I made my way over to an empty spot on the bleachers. It was farther away, but I figured I had better get a spot before there weren't any. My leg refused to quit bouncing as I sat and watched.

* * *

When the race began, I let out the strangest sound: a high pitched squeak. I was thankful for the noise around me that had concealed the sound.

I watched intently as Brittany raced around the track, tensing when it looked like she was going to fall or other racers got too close. Something inside me soared when she passed up the others. I don't think I had ever been so proud of someone, not that I had figured it out at the time.

When Brittany came in third, I jumped up from my seat - but I couldn't bring myself to join in with the cheering.

* * *

"What did you think?" I spun around to see a bright-smiled Brittany.

"Britt!" I exclaimed. "You did so well!"

"You really think so?" she questioned.

"Yes, of course!"

Brittany giggled and reached out, linking her pinky with mine. "C'mon, Santana Marie. Let's get some food before the next race."

So while the second group began their race, Brittany and I headed over to the booths for some food.

With food in hand, we returned to the bleachers to watch the race.

* * *

With the second group done racing, Brittany returned to the track. I watched closely as she made her way around the track once more; she came in first place.

And then it came to the last race of the day; it made me feel as if I hadn't been nervous at all until that point.

When she came in second, I felt bad for her. But when she came running toward me with a shining smile after being awarded her trophy, all I felt was happy.

"Thank you so much for bringing me, Santana Marie!" she almost shouted, wrapping me tightly in her arms.

I laughed when she hugged me tighter. I could feel her deep breaths as she pulled away. She stayed close but said nothing.

She had me caught in her eyes.

My tongue poked between my lips as her warm breath hit my face; they felt so dry. Before I knew it, our foreheads were just about touching - it was happening again.

I took in a deep breath, desperately trying not to move. Her eyes were so intense.

I glanced down to her lips, and then I pulled back.

* * *

Just after we had returned Brittany's bike, a guy, who I had recognized as the winner of first place, came over to us.

"Hey Pierce, nice job out there," he said.

Brittany smiled and took his offered hand. "Thanks, you too."

His gaze wandered over to me and I looked over to Brittany and shifted awkwardly.

"Hey, my name is Kyle. It's nice to meet you..."

"Santana," Brittany informed. Her voice was different from how it usually sounded.

"Santana," he repeated, smiling.

"Yeah, uh, you too," I said. I glanced at Brittany again as she moved closer to me.

"Are you from around here?" He was pretty much ignoring Brittany by that point which made me not only uncomfortable but a little irritated.

"No, not really," I responded.

"N-" Brittany interrupted before he could say anything else. "We better get going, we have a long drive home."

Brittany latched onto my hand for the second time that day and pulled me away from Kyle, leading us out to the car at a fast pace.

"Hope to see you again!" he called after us.

* * *

**To anyone who was actually waiting for this update, I am really sorry for how long it has taken me. Hopefully the chapter isn't horrible for you and it'll make up (at least a little bit) for the wait.**

**Tell me what you think?**


	6. The Family and the Girl

**Guest:** I'm glad you like the Santana Marie thing, and are enjoying the rest of the story so far. Hopefully future chapters don't disappoint.

**Guest****:** You caught the jealous Brittany! I'm sorry for the frustration, because it really is necessary for this story. Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Do vd Graaf****: **Everyone seems to love jealous Britt, I had to get it in there at least a little bit. I'm happy to hear you liked it.

**nayalove****: **She will, in time. But that's pretty much the point of this story - her accepting herself and whatnot.

**CeeBeeGeeBee: **I'm glad it was worth it! I'm sorry I took a bit on getting this one up too. We'll just have to wait and see.

**booknerd4****:** I'm glad you're enjoying the story :) Thank you!

**LikeNobodysWatching****:** Haha I'm glad you think so!

**Thank you for all your reviews and/or adding to alerts/favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

She looked so amazing as she slept, face soft and body curled into a pillow - my pillow, to be exact, which she kidnapped from beneath my head sometime during the night. Taking the stolen pillow back from her hadn't even crossed my mind; she looked so cute and my arm would suffice.

I lay on my side, in my bed, across from her. I couldn't take my eyes from her, because her being entranced by sleep gave me the opportunity to look without being caught; watch without worry.

Her grip on the pillow loosened before it tightened while she pressed her face into it. Her eyelids twitched, but her breathing remained slow.

My eyes wandered from her face to her shoulder barely seen above the pillow and down her arm, stopping at the hand clutching the pillow in front of her chest. My ears focused on her breaths while my eyes trained on her hand. The memory of the softness made me want it - her hand back in mine. Before I could decline myself from such an obvious want, my own hand crept forward. My fingers skated up the pillow until they grazed hers.

The sudden commotion of the door swinging open caused my arm to snap back, resulting in my elbow ramming the wall behind me. I hadn't noticed before that I had been so close; I sat up and scooted away while looking to the doorway.

"Ouch?" Antonio laughed. I glared back. "Your mother would like you downstairs to eat. She doesn't want you in bed all day when you have a guest." He glanced down to Brittany and before I could respond the door was closing.

Only when I looked down did I realize there was a pair of sparkling eyes looking up at me. A smile slowly spread across Brittany's face. When all I managed to do was look back at her in an almost deer caught in the headlights fashion, she mumbled, "G'morning, Santana Marie."

"-orning, Britt-Britt," I rasped out. She released a quiet giggle.

"Should we head downstairs?" Brittany asked. I nodded. "Do we need to get dressed first?"

"No, we can wait unt-" my voice caught in my throat as Brittany slipped out of my bed. Her attire consisted of a shirt and exposed underwear; I remembered her wearing more the night before. She turned and tilted her head slightly, waiting, but my mind was still stuck.

"Santana Marie?"

"Uh..." I began to move to the edge of the bed, getting caught on the cover and almost toppling over the edge. I stood up and continued, "W-we should change."

"Okay," she said.

* * *

We settled around the table with our food and the first thing out of Mom's mouth was, "Where were you?"

I glanced at Brittany before getting on with the story of the previous day, or the outline of the story. Mom and Antonio congratulated Brittany on the race but disapproved of us not informing them (neither of us had realized we left our phones in my car when we got there). The next question, of course, was about Brittany's parents. "You were gone all night, they're probably worried sick!" she exclaimed before ordering us to go see them right away.

We were allowed to eat before I drove Brittany home. I offered to go in and help explain even though I hadn't yet met her parents. I tried to hide my nervousness, but it was no use. Brittany could tell.

* * *

Brittany had me pull in the driveway since I was getting out. She was out and around the car before I could even step out. She gave me an encouraging smile before we made our way up to the door; she curled her pinky around mine when we were about half way.

We reached the door and I tensed; my stomach began to swirl in that horrible I'm-so-nervous way. Brittany squeezed my pinky and reached for the door. There was a noise from somewhere within the house; I glanced at Brittany but she just led us farther in.

Something sped around the corner and straight toward us. Brittany didn't flinch and before I could shuffle out of the way, the figure stopped right in front of us. I noticed the blue eyes first, but the following features all reminded me of Brittany. I glanced at Brittany and I heard, "Britty's home!"

The small girl had her unwavering gaze set on me. I started to feel a little uneasy.

"Jacks, this is Santana," Brittany said. She perked up at her sisters words, but continued to look over me. A smile started to appear. "Santana, this is my sister Jackie."

I opened my mouth but before I could utter a word, two more figures appeared behind Jackie. A woman, who looked like an older version of Brittany and Jackie, and a man who had oddly familiar features (the blue eyes mainly; he reminded me of Brittany).

"Where have you been?" the man said. While his focus was on Brittany, Brittany's mom had found interest in me. I looked up for a moment, only to look down as soon as I noticed her gaze.

"I was with Santana," Brittany answered. His eyes shifted to me as if suddenly noticing my presence.

And then all eyes were on me. I focused on my breathing, trying to keep it calm. Only when I felt Brittany squeeze my pinky did I glance up.

"The tournament," I blurted out. Brittany's dad gave me slightly quizzical look and Jackie continued to study me while Brittany's mom just smiled. I glimpsed over at Brittany; she was trying to hold back a laugh. I frowned and looked back to the ground.

"How about we go sit?" came the older woman's voice. "We'll get comfortable on the couch and you girls can explain."

I sent another glance at the woman and she smiled before grabbing onto her husband and younger daughter and walking them farther into the house. I didn't move.

"They're not mad," Brittany said quietly. I slowly turned to her. She just smiled at me for a moment before I felt her hand against mine and then our pinky's being reconnected. She guided me in the direction her parents went to the living room.

We settled on the couch opposite of her parents, her sister quickly jumping up on the couch to sit on her other side. She jumped into the explanation, not needing the assistance I offered. It occurred to me then that I had no reason to be there.

When Brittany finished explaining and pulled out her trophy, her parents each gave excited "congratulations!"s and "you did so well!"s while Jackie praised her.

"Oh, you are wonderful, aren't you?" Brittany's mom said. I smiled for a moment before I realized she wasn't talking to Brittany. I could feel the nervous feeling swirling in my stomach once again.

"Wh-"

"I can't believe we're just meeting now," she said. "Brittany's told us so much about you; so many great things." I felt my face begin to heat up as I sent Brittany a quick glance.

"And this," Brittany's dad spoke. "There's not much this girl loves more than motocross." He reached over, pulling Brittany to his side.

"Oh, uh, it was-"

"Don't you dare say nothing. I'm pretty certain you're aware of what this meant to Brittany. And I'd just like to say thank you, for doing this wonderful thing for her," Brittany's mom said.

"Uhm. It was my pleasure, Mrs. Pierce," I replied.

There was a short silence before Brittany spoke. "I'm sorry that we just took off. I was just super excited."

"Oh, it's all right. It's just that you know that your father worries," Brittany's mom said, reaching over and patting Brittany's dad's knee.

"_We_ worry when we don't hear from you," Brittany's dad added.

"But you're both fine, we just want a little notice next time," Brittany's mom said. Brittany nodded.

"It was very nice to meet you, Santana," Brittany dad said, standing up.

"You too," I returned.

Brittany pulled me up from the couch as her dad moved to leave the room. Before we got far, Brittany's mom called us back.

"How would you like to join us for dinner?" she asked me.

"Uh." I glanced over at Brittany and she smiled. "I, uhm, I'd love to."

"Great!" she exclaimed.

"Now you girls go have fun," Brittany's dad, who hadn't left the room completely, told us, "but don't be late for dinner."

As Brittany's parents left the room she turned to me.

"Do you wanna see my room?" she asked.

"Okay," replied.

We exited the room, leaving Jackie on the couch by herself, and through the house to Brittany's room. It was bright, much different from my own, and perfect for her.

"I think I like yours better," Brittany said.

"No way," I protested. "Yours is way better."

She smiled, then shrugged, moving toward her bed. "Maybe because it's new. I like new things."

"So that's why you like me?" I questioned. "Because I'm new?" The words felt odd coming from my mouth. To speak of her _liking _me didn't seem quite right; it didn't seem true.

Brittany's eyes widened before she answered, "No!" She bounced up from the bed just as she'd sat, looking at me. "I said new _things_. People are different, and hard to get tired of unless they're just extremely boring; and some are, but definitely not you, Santana Marie."

I couldn't prevent the smile that started to form; it was a combination of her serious tone and the fact that she didn't think I was boring. I said nothing, because I was with Brittany and I didn't need to, and joined her on the bed. Brittany began to lean back, but before I could follow her lead, both our phones went off; Brittany answered her call while I checked my text.

**Quinn: **_Lima Bean in 2hrs_

"Okay," Brittany said into the phone. "Yeah... I'm with Santana... see you there!"

She turned to me as she ended her call. "Artie said everyone's going to Lima Bean later and want us to go."

"Yeah," I said, holding up my phone, "Quinn texted me."

Brittany smiled. "Do you wanna go?"

"If you want to," I replied, and we decided that we would go.

Brittany crawled back and settled into her bed and after I followed to sit against the headboard, she suggested watching movies until it was time to go. I agreed, and she shuffled closer to me. I watched her as she pushed herself up from the bed and began leaning over me. I held my breath without realizing until till she leaned back and sat next to me. She had a remote in her hand.

I remained stiff and watched her awkwardly as she fiddled with the buttons. After skipping past all the previews, she settled back against the headboard. She was so close I could almost feel her; a centimeter of air separating us.

* * *

When Brittany and I entered the Lima Bean, it was packed; we spotted our friends in the back between the couches and the basketball cage. Brittany glanced at me before latching her pinky onto mine and leading us through the crowd. As soon as we got close, everyone began whooping and cheering. (Along with the fifty texts from my mom, I had missed a text from Quinn; upon replying, I informed her of Brittany's second place in the tournament.)

"THERE SHE IS!" shouted Artie. Everyone whooped louder, the strangers around us joining in; Brittany giggled.

"Dancing _and _motocross," Mike said, "girl's got it all!"

Everyone was bouncing around, shouting, excited for Brittany. Rachel somehow squeezed her way through everyone and made it in front of Brittany with a huge smile.

"Brittany," Rachel began, "while I'm amazed I haven't heard of you doing motocross before, I'm immensely proud of you. What a great accomplishment, even if it is a bit dan-"

"How 'bout a victory dance, sexy?" Puck cut in, taking a hold of Brittany's hand before even waiting for an answer. Her pinky was tugged out of my own and I watched as Puck pulled her away; she glanced back at me but I looked away quickly when her expression started to change.

I slowly looked up from the ground to Rachel when I heard her mumble, "Rude." She looked back at me, glanced at Brittany, and then said, "Is that why you didn't tell us about the tournament?"

I immediately rid myself of the deep frown on my face as I realized it was there and replied, "What?"

"Well-" Finn appeared behind her, his weird goofy smile in place as he cut her off, saying, "Hey, I got you a drink." She turned to him, and I made my escape and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

It had been all I wanted: to go back to my friends. But as I sat there, isolated on the couch, it didn't seem like something I wanted at all. I hadn't forgotten what Brittany said, and I suppose I knew they still cared. And I was glad they hadn't forgotten about me; what they talked about, however, was only memories, for I am no longer that person. I became the person who watched, and as much as I knew they still, for the most part, liked me, I couldn't manage to see myself as a part of it.

It seems, after being alone for so long, it just wasn't the same.

A few strangers sat in the nearby couches, but all my friends were up and dancing. Brittany had managed to escape Puck, but she still wasn't with me. Instead, she was dancing with Sam. I watched them (her) for a while. The way she moved, they way she smiled, the distant sound of her laugh - it was all amazing. But as Sam brought her closer and twisted her around, I shifted my eyes away.

Aside from Karofsky, who was leaning against the basketball cage with a scowl on his face, and Finn, who was swaying awkwardly next to Rachel and Mercedes, everyone else was also dancing in pairs: Mike and Tina, Artie and Quinn, and Kurt and Blaine. I could tell they were having fun, and I longed to be a part of it, but I still didn't know how. And then my eyes wandered back to Brittany; I couldn't help but wish we were back in her room, just her and I.

Such a selfish want: to have her all to myself.

"Is this seat taken?" I jumped slightly and turn to the voice; a smirking Puck stood in front of me. I just shook my head.

Puck stepped closer and fell onto the couch beside me, his arm resting behind me on the back of the couch. I scooted closer to the arm.

"Aw, c'mon, really?" he said.

"What do you want, Puck?"

"Just came over to have a little talk with my favorite girl." I glared. "What?" he questioned, continuing to smirk. "You know you love the Puckster." There was silence for a moment before someone cleared their throat. Puck and I both looked up. Rachel was standing before us, looking between the two of us.

"Well then," Puck spoke, before Rachel could, "I suppose I'll leave you two to talk." He walked off, leaving Rachel to take his place, and I had begun to wish Puck was sitting next to me, which was definitely not something I ever thought I would want.

"Is everything all right, Santana?" Rachel asked.

I looked at her for a moment before I shrugged, answering, "Yeah." And we sat there, and she looked at me. It was like what Brittany always did to me, except it didn't work - I could avoid Rachel's eyes.

"I know we were never exactly close," she began, "but a lot has changed, and your friends have accepted me into the group and I hope that we can become friends. And I just want you to know that you can always talk to me."

I just said, "I don't want to talk."

She smiled kindly. "I understand." There was a short pause before she continued. "But anytime you do want to talk, I am available."

I looked at her for a moment. "Okay."

After glancing at the time I made my second escape from Rachel that night, telling her that I had to get going (which was true; I didn't want to be late for dinner at Brittany's).

* * *

I found Brittany dancing with Artie; she smiled at me as soon as she spotted me over his shoulder.

"Santana Marie!" she exclaimed, maneuvering around Artie to stand in front of me. Artie turned around for a moment to look at me before being pulled by Quinn to dance.

"Hey," I said, smiling back at Brittany. Her hands found my hips and I promptly realized what she was trying to do: get me to dance. I placed my hands over hers and spoke before she could even start to pout at me. "We gotta get going, Britt-Britt."

"But I haven't seen you since we got here," she said, pouting anyway. "We didn't get to dance." She pulled me closer.

"I know," I replied, somewhere between grateful and disappointed; I didn't get the satisfaction watching from afar that I did when I was with Brittany, but I didn't want to say no to dancing with her all night.

"Why do we have to go?" she questioned while trying to coax me into dancing.

"Dinner," is all I said.

"Oh, right!" She seemed to forget about dancing as she parted from me to tell the others of our leaving.

"Quinn said not to forget about tomorrow," Brittany said as she appeared back at my side.

"Tomorrow?" I inquired.

"It's the fourth of July!" she responded excitedly. "And Quinn said that the group usually spend all day together, and then go out on a boat for the fireworks and everything." I smiled as Brittany lead me out of the building.

"You're gonna love tomorrow."

* * *

As soon as Brittany and I entered her house, I was hit with a wave of delicious smells. Just as Brittany closed the front door behind us, I spotted her sister bounding around the corner. She slowed as she looked at me and made her way to Brittany.

"Dinner's ready, Britty," Jackie said. "You're late."

"Oh," came another, deeper voice. "You're not late late just yet." Brittany's dad. He walked up to us, putting a hand atop Jackie's head and ruffled her hair; she frowned up at him.

"Dinner's ready!" shouted who I guessed was Brittany's mom.

Brittany's dad told Jackie to wash up and she scampered away. He looked back up to us and smiled, saying, "It's nice of you to join us tonight, Santana." I managed to nod before he turned to walk to the kitchen. Brittany linked her pinky with mine and lead me to the table.

Brittany's dad sat at the head of the table with Brittany to his right and Brittany's mom to his left. I sat next to Brittany, Jackie sat next to her mom, and the chair at the other end of the table remained empty (or so I thought). The amazing smell turned out to be homemade personal pizzas, which looked as great as they smelled; I managed to hold myself back and not eat like a pig.

The topic of discussion started out as Brittany's tournament. She spoke of it wish ease, explaining everything about it and more. She even told her parents about the guy that won first place, but left out the part where we practically ran away from him. It wasn't until Brittany finished that I was able to look around the table a little more; I answered their questions, and gave my own little story about how amazing Brittany was. Aside from how Jackie continued to look at me every few minutes, there was something I noticed that night: Brittany's parents. Aided by their close proximity, they were able to reach each other, which they did - between them, on the table, was their connected hands. It was something that I had never seen with my own parents; something that oddly surprised me.

* * *

Brittany and I relocated to her room once again; Jackie tried to come with us, but Brittany made her go to her own room instead. Brittany immediately crawled onto her bed while I sat on the edge. Shortly after, I felt a dip in the bed; thinking it was Brittany, I looked over. It wasn't Brittany.

"Holy shit!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. "What is that?" I stared down at the beady eyes surrounded by fur, glancing away only when I heard a soft giggle from Brittany. She had moved to the spot I was sitting, legs dangling down over the edge.

"This is Lord Tubbington," she told me, pulling the huge thing into her lap. "He was at dinner with us," she went on, slowly stroking his fur as he continued to stare up at me (and I stared back, refusing to lose a staring contest to a _cat_).

"Wow," escaped my lips.

"Wanna pet him?" I shook my head, keeping my focus on the cat.

Suddenly, I felt Brittany's hand on my arm. "Do you want to spend the night?" she asked, voice lower than before. "We can watch some more movies and stuff."

And my eyes flitted away from the cat; but before my full attention was back to Brittany, I noticed him shift on her lap to lie down.

"Uhm," I started, "maybe another night?"

"Okay," she said, but I could see the outline of a slowly forming frown.

"I just- I don't know if it's a good idea," I added quickly. "After last night."

"Another night," she repeated, nodding.

Before I left Brittany's house I thanked her parents for dinner one more time, and they again said they were glad to have me ("And come back anytime!" her mom added).

* * *

Instead of going home right away, I decided to stop by my dad's. I walked in the front door, and instead of the empty living room I was expecting, I saw Carmen and some guys I had never before seen.

"Hey," I said, closing the door behind me.

Carmen looked up. "Hey!"

"My dad here?" I asked, even though I knew it was unlikely.

"Nah," she replied. It seemed that, more often than not, I always missed him; I really needed to figure out when he was and wasn't working. "Want some?" she asked, and the guy closest to me on the couch offered up a blunt.

I looked at it for a moment before I shook my head. "No thanks. I think I'm gonna head home."

* * *

I had contemplated going on a run during the walk from my car too my room, but I finally decided I wouldn't. I was too tired; I felt drained. So I settled for taking a hot shower before going to bed. When I entered my bathroom, however, I immediately noticed something on the counter. As I got closer, I noticed it was a slip of paper. But not just any paper, because when I flipped it over there was something written:

"_I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It's nice." - J.D. Salinger_

I smiled at the thought of Brittany scribbling the words down before breakfast.

The problem came when I got in bed; I was having no luck in the being able to sleep department. I could _feel _the tiredness in my head, but it refused to be put to sleep.

After being in the dark for about half an hour, listening to the silence, I turned on the TV. It didn't hold my attention for long, because I soon started to think. The thing that entered my mind right away was, of course, Brittany. I thought back to the previous day, how I spent the day with her and how nice it was. And then the morning, when I was in the very same bed - with her next to me. Instead of just feeling alone, like I usually did, I felt like I was missing something. And for the first time, I had wished to have someone (but not any someone) in my bed with me.

**Brittany: **_Goodnight Santana Marie_

* * *

**I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope the chapter isn't a complete fail.**

**If you'd like to see any couples now is the time to tell me.**

**Tell me what you think?**


	7. Fireworks

**Guest****: **Oh, no! (Maybe this chapter will help.) I'm a little confused by your question. Carmen is pretty much Santana's step sister and the daughter of Eva - Santana's dad's girlfriend. No cheating as of yet.

**booknerd4****:** I'm glad you liked that, and like the quotes! I've got such a long list of them now... but it's still hard to find ones I need sometimes. Sorry for the wait.

**Do vd Graaf: **Definitely no Finchel. I'm really considering Faberry... it's between that and Quinn/Artie.

**CeeBeeGeeBee****:** Ohh, really? I think I might be able to get that in here somewhere :P Possible... but now I'm thinking maybe Quinn/Rachel or Quinn/Artie. I'm glad you weren't disappointed and liked Brittany's parents, and hopefully this chapter is good for you, too. Santana is (pretty much) happy when with Brittany... but the rest is gonna take a while. I'm sorry for the wait on the update.

**dawndwilson****:** There's nothing really "wrong" with Santana, other than the fact that she's extremely unhappy with herself. She's sad, and she pretty much just hates herself. As for it being normal teenage behavior, I really don't know.

**Thank you so much for reading and all your reviews and/or adding to alerts/favorites.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee.

* * *

I vaguely noticed the shift on my bed; my eyes remained closed and my mind was already slipping back into unconsciousness. I was almost lost in the land of sleep when I heard her voice.

"'If you want to make your dreams come true, the first thing you have to do is wake up,'" she said. "J.M. Power."

(I thought I might have been dreaming.)

"Santana Marie." Her words were followed by a barely-there touch to my arm; my eyes finally opened.

"Brittany?" I croaked. Her hand, which had flattened over my arm, urged me to roll onto my back.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," I whispered back.

She had me trapped again; lost within her eyes.

A soft giggle pulled me back to reality. I looked at a smiling Brittany for a moment, searching her face for what was funny, slowly registering the slow circles being raced on the inside of my elbow.

"What?" I asked.

"You..." she shook her head. "Nothing." She smiled, but her unspoken words hung in the air. I wanted to know, but I wouldn't ask.

I glanced down to her fingers tracing over my skin just before they trailed down my arm.

"You should get up," she said. I groaned.

She laughed as I rolled over onto my stomach. "What time is it?"

"A little past ten."

"Too early," I mumbled into my pillow. The bed shifted again as Brittany crawled over me. I turned my head to peak at her where she knelt next to my bed, and before I could catch it, a smile overtook my face. She grinned back.

* * *

Brittany's excited explanation of Fourth of July cooking at her house finally got me out of bed. She waited happily in my room as I walked down the hall to my bathroom to get dressed. When I returned, she jumped up and was at my side before i could even fully enter the room. My eyes fell to the floor when we headed for the stairs and her pinky found mine. I gave a quick glance at our connected fingers just before Brittany began to explain that her mom dropped her off before going to the grocery store and that if we hurried, we could beat her back and Brittany could win her bet with Lord Tubbington. We were almost to the door when Antonio's voice stopped us.

"¿Dónde vas?" he asked.

"A casa de Brittany," I answered, taking a step toward the door.

"¿Para qué?" Brittany glanced at me and I sighed before leading her over to the office entrance. Antonio sat in his chair facing us, looking at me expectantly. My mom glanced over at us, sending Brittany a smile before she returned to her screen.

"Me ha invitado a su casa para cocinar y cosas."

He watched me for a moment, looked at Brittany, and then nodded. "Okay," he said, turning back to the papers scattered across his desk.

Brittany and I finally made it out of the house, but it wasn't until we had to separate to get into the car that I noticed her smile and the strange way she was looking at me. I waited until we were both in my car, and it was still there so I said, "What?"

She only smiled brighter before looking down to her hands in her lap, but I began to frown, sitting for a moment without starting the car and then repeating, "What?"

She looked back to me, smile smaller, shyer, and said, "Your voice. It's really pretty." And I stared.

I don't know how long we sat there for, but suddenly she said, "We're gonna lose the bet." My brain started running again and I quickly looked away and started the car.

* * *

I felt sick with nervousness as soon as I pulled into Brittany's driveway. I wasn't sure why; I had already met her parents and sister, we hadn't done anything wrong, and I was almost certain I hadn't lost her the bet. But it was there, I was nervous.

And then my door swung open and Brittany pulled me out of the car. I followed her without a thought. We walked in the house and when Brittany turned to shut the door behind us, I saw Brittany's sister poke her head out from behind the wall hiding the kitchen; just as soon as she appeared, she disappeared.

There was a flash of blonde when we reached the kitchen. I scanned the room, seeing no sign of the little girl and only that of Brittany's dad smiling at us from behind the counter. He opened his mouth in greeting, but I was distracted by Brittany's sister sneaking out from behind the counter. She made a quick stop at the wall to my right, pressing her back flat against it; I watched as best I could from the corner of my eye as to not tip her off of my looking. She slipped around the end of the wall and to Brittany's side, where she was hidden from my view. I looked over to Brittany then and she gave me a smile before allowing her sister to tug her away.

After a few minutes, I looked back to Brittany's dad. He was in the same spot behind the counter, a soft smile upon his face. I glanced around the kitchen and shuffled my feet, wishing Brittany would soon return.

"Would you like to help?" I looked back to Brittany's dad. The counter in front of him was full of various foods and utensils; mainly apples, knives, cutting boards, and bowls.

"Okay," I replied, my voice sounding so small. He smiled, placed the knife in his hand on the cutting board before him, and cleared a space next to him. After a wooden cutting board had been placed in the space and the apples had been herded between the two, he looked back to me. With a knife held up, ready for use, he ushered me over. I took the spot next to him and accepted the knife.

"We're just slicing apples now," he said, resuming such. "Susan should be back from the store soon, and then the fun begins." He glanced at me again, hands working slowly on slicing apples, and flashed a smile. I reached over to retrieve an apple and followed suit, beginning to slice the apple.

We worked in silence for a while, only hearing the thud of our knives against the wood and the distant sounds from throughout the house.

"You're really good at that," Brittany's dad complimented. I looked over to see him smiling, hands paused in the middle of his task. "Slicing," he clarified. Before I could think of anything so say in return, there was another voice.

"Santana's good at everything," Brittany said. Brittany, with her sister close to her side, was again in the room, occupying the same spot I earlier had. She grinned at me and I looked down to the apple I had been slicing, feeling my face heat up.

The _thud thud thud_ of Brittany's dad's knife started again. I looked up slowly and mumbled, "I'm not good at everything."

Brittany shrugged. "Pretty much." Before I could refute, the creak of the door made us aware the door had been opened and Brittany took off. Brittany's dad leaned over to me and said, "Here comes the fun," before he followed after Brittany. It took me a moment to notice the mini Brittany standing in front of me across the room, giving me a wary look. There was more noise, and then she too was gone.

It wasn't long until Brittany, her sister, and her dad reentered the room, led by Brittany's mom. Excluding Brittany's sister, they were all carrying green recyclable grocery bags. Brittany swept past me and I watched as bags were placed around the kitchen, covering the empty spaces.

Brittany's arm looping through mine startled me, especially since I was immediately tugged forward, almost tripping, and by the time I realized what was happening, I was already running along behind her.

"Britt," I laughed, but she continued to pull me along, outside until we reached her mom's SUV. She led to me the open trunk before removing her arm from mine, only to grab more of the green bags. With her arms full of bags, she turned back to me and smiled. I let out a low chuckle at her silly grin and reached for some bags. With out arms full and only four bags left in the back of the SUV, we made our way back inside, passing Brittany's dad as we entered the front door.

Back in the kitchen, Brittany's mom was emptying the contents of the bags; the bags were then handed to Brittany's distracted sister, who was trying to snoop through the full bags at the same time. Brittany and I continued in, placing the bags in any spot we could. We heard the door closed; Brittany's dad walked in with the remaining bags.

"It's nice to see you, Santana," Brittany's mom said, leaning against the counter with a welcoming smile.

I smiled in return, said, "You too," and glanced at Brittany.

"Now," Brittany's mom said, looking around the cluttered kitchen. Before she could continue, Brittany, Brittany's dad and Brittany's sister all shuffled to stand before her. I began to smile slowly, watching them curiously. Brittany looked back at me and reached out, quickly pulling me to her side; I couldn't help but smile more.

"The girls and I will work inside on drinks and desert while you-" she pointed at Brittany's dad "-go outside and work on the chicken and burgers. Derek should be over soon to help you." Brittany's dad stood straighter, lifted his arm to salute and offered a "Yes, ma'am."

"Go on," Brittany's mom said, giving a wave of her hand. Brittany's dad dropped his arm back to his side and nodded. Both of their faces broke into smiles and Brittany's dad moved forward, kissed his wife, and headed to the back door. When Brittany's sister broke from our line to go to her mom, I realized Brittany still had a hold on mine.

Brittany's mom began to move about the kitchen once again. "You girls can work on the pie while Jackie and I deal with the groceries and drinks," she said. She reached into a couple bags before turning to us; she smiled and moved past us to the island where the cutting boards and apples were. Brittany curled her pinky around mine and guided me over. Brittany's mom grabbed two knives from the counter and handed one to me and one to Brittany. "Be careful with the knife, Hon," she cautioned; I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or Brittany.

I heard mutters behind me from who I guessed was Brittany's mom and sister. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I figured it wasn't my place anyway.

"Are you excited, Santana Marie?" I sent a quick glance over to Brittany before looking to the cutting board before me and resumed slicing my apple.

"For what?" I asked.

"Today, of course," she replied in a voice that said _duh_. I looked over to her again. She was looking down, focused on the apple in front of her; she was trying to perfect her slices. I couldn't help but smile a so-big smile at her slight fumbling. I hadn't really been excited before, but then I had the sudden thought that I would be spending the whole day with Brittany and I knew my answer.

"Yeah." She looked to me and I caught a glimpse of her concentrated face before she smiled. It took me a moment to become aware of my staring; I looked back to my apple.

We worked on slicing our apples for a while before I glanced over to Brittany. My hands slowed to a stop as I watched her, a so-big smile starting to form. It didn't take long for her to catch on, though, and she looked up and met my eyes. I wanted to looked away, but it happened again - I was stuck and I couldn't look away. But then she started to frown. _Oh god_, I thought. _Oh god, I'm staring and she thinks I'm weird._

But her frown was a pout, and she looked more so sad than mad or weirded out.

"I'm not so good with knives," is what she said.

"What?" Her eyes shifted over to her apple slices. "They're fine, Britt." I smiled. "But you should peel and core the apples first."

"Oh," she said, biting her lip. I placed my knife on my cutting board before reaching out for Brittany's.

"Here," I said, reaching for her apple as well. I peeled the remainder of the apple before putting it back in front of her. I handed the knife back, but she stayed still and continued to look at me. "Do you want me to show you an easy way to do it?"

She nodded. I shuffled closer and she looked down to the apple. I was close to her side when I reached for her hand that held the knife; as soon as my skin touched hers, my hand jerked back. She turned her head to look at me and I smiled nervously before I reached for her hand again, trying to calm myself when my hand was lightly placed over hers. I moved her hand to the apple and paused. I looked down at the apple, and our hands. I considered telling her to hold the apple in place, but as I opened my mouth, I found that the words were stuck. I shuffled again, putting myself behind her, and slipped my arm beneath hers to hold the apple.

"Start out slow," I instructed, pressing down on her hand so the knife cut into the apple, "so you know what you're doing." After three slices, I spoke again. "And then you can start going faster." I moved our hands quicker, but only a little.

With the remainder of the apple slices, I retracted my hand and stepped back, just a little, to create more space between Brittany and I.

"And peeling?" Brittany asked. I stepped closer to her again and grabbing another apple, putting it in Brittany's free hand.

"Peeling," I said, " isn't as hard as it seems." I covered her hand holding the knife again, guiding it to the apple as I covered her other other hand as well. I pushed on her hand with the knife, pushing it into the apple. "Just go slow and keep circling the apple."

"And to core it," I continued once we had fully peeled the apple, "just take this thing-" I grabbed the apple corer, placed it on the apple and pushed down, twisting it before pulling it out "-and do that." I turned my head slightly to look at Brittany. "Got it?" She nodded, and I let her take over with slicing the apple.

I was suddenly aware of how very close my face was to hers. I was so distracted, lost in thought as I watched the side of Brittany's face, that I hadn't realized what happened until I heard Brittany gasp. I looked down to the cutting board.

"Oh my god," Brittany panicked. There was non-apple skin red on the cutting board. "Mom, I cut Santana!" At the mention of Brittany's mom, I jumped back. I had been so caught up with Brittany, I forgot we weren't alone, and that we were in Brittany's kitchen. Brittany was quick to turn around, her worried blue eyes finding my lost brown ones.

"Lemme have a look, dear," Brittany mom said, placing a gentle hand on my wrist. She turned me to face her, lifting my hand to examine it. I finally began to register the pain in my finger and mumbled, "Ow."

"I'm so sorry," Brittany said.

"Ew, blood!" Brittany's sister squealed.

"It's not bad, is it?" Brittany asked her mom, leaning forward to look at my left hand cradled by her mom.

"Just a little cut," Brittany's mom assured. "No big deal, I'm sure you'll live." I smiled a little as Brittany's mom patted my hand before dropping it, still feeling a little lost. Brittany's mom turned to Brittany's sister and said, "Go get Santana here a band-aid, Hon." The girl looked up at me for a minute before nodding and racing out of the room.

I lifted my hand to look at my finger, watching as a tiny bit of blood trickled down; my stomach became a little unsettled and I looked over to Brittany. She had the most adorable I'm-so-so-sorry pout and my so-big smile wanted to make an appearance, but I held it back.

"I didn't mean to," Brittany said, voice sad and low. "I'm really sorry. You're hand was just there and then-"

"It's okay, Britt-Britt," I interrupted. "Really." She nodded slowly and made her way to the sink. She ripped a paper towel from the roll and placed it under the running water her mom turned on for her. She turned back to me, a slightly smaller but still definitely there pout on her face. She brought the damp paper towel to me.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said. I just smiled back. "Can I see your hand?" I lifted my hand for her, which she grabbed gently; I watched her face and she cared for my cut. She bit her lip when she was done and looked to my face, but before either of of could say anything, I felt a soft tug at my pants leg. I looked down and there was Brittany's sister; she presented a box of band-aids.

"We have a whole bunch of band-aids," she started quietly, "but I brought you mine. They're the best." I could tell Brittany was about to object and then her sister added, "Definitely better than Britt's."

"I can get you mine instead," Brittany offered, but her sister quickly began riffling through her box of band-aids and looked up at me. "I have pretty flowers, Spongebob, and Mickey and Minnie Mouse. You can pick."

I smiled and said, "How about you pick?" She looked down to the band-aids in her hand again before grabbing one and holding it up for me to take. "Thank you," I said, accepting the Minnie Mouse band-aid. Without another word, she scampered out of the kitchen.

"Here," Brittany said. I looked her way and she reached for the band-aid. "I'll put it on for you," she suggested. She unwrapped the band-aid and took my hand with the same gentleness as she had before, slowing putting the band-aid in place around my finger.

"Thanks," I said, still eyeing our hands.

"I'm sorry I cut you," she apologized again.

I shrugged. "Cuts happen. It's really no big deal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I assured. "But next time I wanna see what awesome band-aids you have stashed away."

"I don't plan on hurting you again," Brittany laughed, but there was something serious behind it.

* * *

While Brittany's mom and sister began working on the strips for the top of the pie, Brittany and I got the cookie cutters and began to cut the dough into leaf shapes.

With the bottom crust and apples already in the dish and the strips and leaves cut, Brittany's mom and sister arranged the strips in a lattice formation stop of apples before Brittany and I placed our leaves around the edges.

Brittany's mom and sister left the kitchen to go outside and check on Brittany's dad's progress on the rest of the food. Meanwhile, Brittany and I set out to make the mixture to put on top of the pie. I placed the sauce pan on the stove and turned it; at the same time, Brittany got all the ingredients we needed because I didn't know where anything was (or what exactly it was we were making). Once we had everything mixed together, I turned the stove off and moved the pan to the potholder Brittany placed next to the pie. We, in a very disorderly manner, returned all the ingredients to their places before returning to the mixture; we poured it over the top of the pie carefully.

I was putting the sauce pan in the slowly filling when Brittany's finger brushed against my nose; I froze. My hands were buried in the water, my feet firmly on the ground, and my shoulders stiff; and then she began to giggle. I released the pan into the water and twirled on her, my nose scrunched up. Her laughter quieted but she was smiling so brightly.

"Britt...," I started. She laughed, and I lunged. She squealed as I trapped her against the counter, but she was still smiling, and I smiled back. My first thought was to lean forward and rub my nose against her cheek to give back the stickiness she smeared on my nose, but as soon as I inched closer I froze. Instead, I blindly reached to the sink to capture the soap bubbles and brought them between us, quickly pressing them to her cheek. She laughed louder and I couldn't help but join in.

We calmed down, laughter fading but smiles still on full display. "'I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living,'" she said. "Dr. Seuss." And then I really began to take notice of how close, for the second time that day, we were.

"Are you trying to flood my kitchen, Santana?" I leaped back at the voice and quickly looked over to see Brittany's mom turning off the slightly overfilled sink. My insides were so tight and my face was so hot that I wasn't aware of her smile.

"I..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. Brittany touched my arm, causing me to look back her way.

"She's joking," she said. I glanced back to Brittany's mom who was starting to laugh. I smiled nervously.

"How about we get this pie in?"

* * *

We spent about an hour cleaning up and putting the rest of the groceries in their places before all the food was done. Our pie turned out looking pretty amazing, but we had to abandon it and go outside to eat our actual lunch. When we made it out to the back yard, I was surprised to see a bunch more people than just Brittany's dad. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that.

All my nerves that floated away came rushing back; it got even worse when Brittany left my side, dragged away by some unknown person. I watched her as she went around the yard, to her dad and then on to other unfamiliar faces. I thought I saw her looking back at me at one point but I wasn't sure. And then I was distracted by someone approaching: Brittany's sister. She was walking slow and didn't look up at me until she was right in front of me; she said nothing as she held a plate up to me.

With a plate of food in my hands, Brittany's sister gone, and no one else near, I retreated to one of the big chairs at the side of the yard. Once I was settled in the chair, I looked to my food: A burger, a piece of BBQ chicken, BBQ chips, and a fruit skewer. I nibbled on the chips as I watched the people in the yard like they were a TV show - that's what it felt like because earlier was gone and I was on the outside again.

Soon, nearly all my chips were gone and I moved on to the fruit skewer. I sent one more glance around the yard - no sign of Brittany - and pulled the watermelon start from the stick; my face screwed up slightly at the off taste after having eaten the chips. It took a moment for it to taste like actual good watermelon, and then I heard her. My head whipped to the side to spot a chucking Brittany.

"You have food," she said. I looked down to my plate and then back to her. I nodded. "Sorry. I got you some, but then everyone wanted to talk and..." She shrugged.

I smiled. "It's okay."

She shuffled her feet, looked down for a moment, and then said, "Can I sit with you?"

I gave a nod and she moved to sit in front of me on the chair, mirroring me with her legs crossed and plate in her lap.

"I really didn't mean to leave you alone." Her voice was nearing that same sad tone she had when she cut me before. I looked at her in silence, for once not worried about getting caught and focusing on her. And then I smiled; she seemed to understand without me having to say anything.

"How do you like it?" I paused my hands from picking at the chicken before answering. It really was good, but I hadn't been in the mood to eat.

"My dad's not the best cook, but he's pretty good with the grill." My hands resumed picking at the chicken.

"Do you do this every year?" I asked. "Have a party on the Fourth of July?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Once in a while we go to one of my aunt or uncle's house's, but most of the time everyone comes to our house." It was then that I realized the party was a family event; all the people there were family except for me.

My eyes shifted around the yard. "Oh." I had no place there.

"We don't usually being other people, but..." she trailed, shrugging off the rest of her sentence. "But what?" I wanted to ask; but I didn't. The something lingering in her words made me feel marginally better. (I was not family, but still there, because ..., after all.)

* * *

We had finally finished eating and then Mike texted us - Mike texted me, actually, and Brittany got a text from Artie - to get our stuff together and head down to the lake and meet at the showers. I didn't think much of it when we left Brittany's house with nothing but our phones and some money.

After we paid to get in and placed our sticker in the window, we drove the short road to the showers where some of our group were already waiting. (We didn't wait for the rest of them before heading down to find a camping spot.)

* * *

By the time we were done, we had a pretty large camp set up: five tents arranged in a circle with a medium-sized fire circle in the middle (which Brittany and I hunted down rocks for to put on the edges).

And when I got a text from Mikey (_Down for a firework war?_) I informed the others of the invite.

Puck was the first to respond with a "Fuck yeah!" All the guys, aside from Kurt, joined in the excitement. I could see the excitement in Brittany's eyes as I revealed the location - the motocross track (Brittany and I's spot). Quinn, Mercedes, Rachel, and Kurt were the only ones to stay behind.

* * *

"Hey, you made it!" Mikey greeted. I finished exiting the car and turned around to smile at him.

"Dude!" Puck shouted, running up and cutting me off from Mikey. "This is like, an actual war, right?"

"Aim and fire, my friend," said another voice. The figure walked closer and I recognized him as Jesse St. James.

"Exactly," Mikey agreed, smiling as Jesse retreated back to a group of guys, none of which I remembered enough to know their names. Puck took off to join the group. "Are you two actually gonna join in?" Mikey asked Brittany and I.

"No way," I said, but Brittany was nodding excitedly.

"C'mon, San," Mikey said. "It'll be fun - even your friend is gonna do it." I shook my head in refusal. Mikey shrugged and turned to the group crowding around a pile of fireworks.

"You're really not gonna try?" Brittany asked me.

"Shooting fireworks at each other?" I replied, because it was obvious. "No thanks."

She gave a small pout. "Not even for me? I'll protect you." I smiled, and smiled bigger, preventing a laugh from escaping. I bit my lip. There was a small jump beneath my skin, a shiver; I wanted to say yes, just for her. I wanted to give her what she wanted, because it seemed as if I never did. But having fireworks shot at me - and her - was really not something I wanted to do. I shook my head. (For some reason, I thought that since I wouldn't do it, maybe she wouldn't do it either.)

"Okay." She was doing it.

* * *

With most everyone gathering to join in the "war," I made my way to the large structure used as an announcing stand. It was tall and old and rusty (and in need of repair - but this was Lima). I was cautious going up the ladder, but it didn't shake under me, so by the time I was at the top, I sat in the old chair without much worry.

Mikey's voice sounded so distant and small, but I was able to make out his instructions.

"Okay," he started, "pick your weapons. Once we're ready, we'll spread out." (Which some already were.) As more people drifted from the middle, armed with different kinds of fireworks, his voice rose. "After we start, you can return to the pile at any point to get more - but you can still by shot at." Puck, Artie, and a few other guys scrambled to grab more fireworks before backing off, moving to opposite sides of the track.

It was a nice view from up in the stand; The light was dim, but not quite dark, allowing me a wide view of the whole track, the small pile of fireworks and the people spread around. I felt myself stiffen when I spotted Brittany hiding in the far left corner.

Just then, she looked up - straight at me.

Just then, someone sat in one of the chairs next to me.

I jumped and looked over to see a few girls, friends of Mikey's, joining me on the stand.

Brittany held back awhile, watching the others run about the track. Her head shifted my way every so often, her eyes just bright enough to be seen from so high up. My eyes drifted, watching Mikey, spotting Tina, seeing Mike run, looking at blonde hair. (I always ended up back on Brittany.)

A firework flew into Mikey's shoulder, one into Puck's hand, and Brittany ran. She made it across the track untouched, delivering a hit to Mike on the way. A guy with blondish-brown hair shot at Brittany and she shot back - both missing - before sneaking off to the right. Artie began to trail after her, but Mikey got him in the arm - and received a hit to the back of his leg - which caused him to fall back.

Sparkling bright red and blue smacked into Brittany's chest; I barely saw the pain flash across her face before she ran for cover. Tina, who was running in the same direction as Brittany, got saved from a hit on her side by Mike jumping in the way, but got hit on the ankle from Jesse. Brittany and Tina met and hunkered down by one of the mounds. On the other end of the rack, Joe took a hit to the upper back and Mikey only just dodged a hit to the face. Brittany and Tina dispersed, Brittany heading for the firework pile and Tina running off the track.

When Tina sat next to me, I noticed that the girls that had joined me before were annoyingly loud.

"Brittany says hey," Tina told me. I nodded, not knowing how else to respond, and looked back down to Brittany. Tina reached down to her ankle, examining her hit, I assumed.

"Did it hurt?" I asked, causing her to look up at me.

"Yeah," she said, sitting straighter, "but not as much as what the others are getting, I bet." Right then, as we looked down, Brittany was retreating as Mikey shot off his firework which skimmed across the cheek of a guy with jet black hair.

* * *

It was dark when we got back to the lake and I knew the firework show would be starting soon. Brittany texted Quinn to let her know we were back and she replied quickly, saying to meet her and the others at the marina.

As soon as we got there, Quinn led us to the two boats we would be using. Due to the large group we had, not everyone would fit in just one boat so we decided to split the group where we had a girls and a guys boat; Mike was assigned to drive one boat while Quinn drove the other. Brittany and I followed the girls (and Kurt) onto Quinn's boat, and once everyone was settled, we were off.

* * *

When there was a decent distance between us and the marina, Quinn killed the engine; Mike followed, stopping beside us. It was 9:55 and the firework show started at 10:00pm, so we had a few minutes to spare.

I felt Brittany's pinky curl around mine and then she pulled me to the front of the boat (because it was quieter with a better view, I thought). Tina was at the front with us, but the rest stood around the middle or sat in the back.

"I'm excited," Brittany said. I gave her pinky the lightest squeeze.

"I think the lake view is better than anywhere else," I revealed.

The first firework went off.

"Beer!" Puck shouted from the other boat. All the guys already had cans of beer in their hands and Puck was reaching into a full ice chest, throwing cans across to us. (Mike jumped boats and he and Tina shared a kiss before he handed her a beer.) Quinn tossed me a beer, followed by one for Brittany which I caught because she was busy watching the fireworks. I got Brittany's attention just before the music started and handed her a beer. I saw her lips form the words "thank you," but the music was too loud for me to actually hear.

I settled into my seat next to Brittany; we both ha dour heads resting against the back, looking up at the fireworks, our beers held by the nearby cup holders.

The loud bang of a rocket startled me. I searched until I saw the guys setting up another on the back of the boat. I felt movement against me and turned to Brittany. The music was drowning her laughter. I nudged her with my shoulder. Her smiled widened and she pushed back at me. I returned the nudge, harder, and then she surprised me; she pushed against me again, but crawled onto my lap at the same time. My whole body froze beneath her; her eyes found mine and she seemed to freeze to me, too.

Time passed, time stilled. Something happened and it was just Brittany and I. I could feel her breath against my face, warm and flutter inducing. Her eyes were deep and searching, searching me while I tried to form any sort of thought. Her breath got warmer and her eyes got closer; I knew it was happening.

She moved in closer - closer to me, closer to my lips. I could hear the erratic _thump thump thump_ of my heart and I was scared she could hear it, too. She was almost there, but not quite - I still had a chance to escape...

But I could do nothing but look back at her. I wanted to look away, I wanted to look over her face, but I couldn't look away from her eyes, which I wasn't sure if I really wanted to do or not. Her lips inched closer and with a shaky breath, I closed my eyes. I told myself it was what I wanted when I felt her lips press to my cheek.

* * *

It was around midnight when we made it back to the marina. The majority of our group was on the brink of being drunk, but we had smart enough to have our drivers which included me and Brittany, even though she wasn't driving. We piled into my, Quinn's, and Artie's cars and headed back to the campsite.

We had only been sitting around for a few minutes when Brittany told me she had to leave.

"You're not camping?" I asked quickly. "Why?" I was so scared; I thought I had made her upset. At that point, there was never a time when such had been true, and I didn't want it. I couldn't have her upset with me.

"My parents want me to go home to spend some time with my family," she explained. I was relieved, but I still didn't want her to go. "I'm sorry," she added.

"Do you want me to take you home?" She started to nod-

"I can give you a ride, Britt," Artie said.

"Um..."

"It's not problem, really," he pushed. "I haven't spent much time with you anyway." I couldn't hide my disappointment, but I knew Artie wouldn't back down.

Brittany pulled me into a hug. "'If we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives,'" she whispered. "Lemony Snicket."

"See you in a bit, San," Artie called.

* * *

At 2:00 in the morning, it started to rain.

At 2:10, it started to rain harder. We ditched our tents, grabbing only what we needed and dragging ourselves through the sand to our cars; we all packed into Quinn and I's cars, seeing as no one else was sober enough to drive.

At 2:56, it started to storm. We had made it across town to the lodge. Quinn got into her dad's office and gave us keys for the rooms.

At 3:41, I was at Brittany's. I hadn't thought about the decision when I made it. All I knew was that it was storming and there was loud thunder; all I thought about was when Brittany expressed her fear of thunder storms.

When I was sitting in my car in front of her house, I started to think: _It's almost four o'clock in the morning, what the fuck are you doing? _There was no way I could just knock on her front door.

It took me about ten minutes of sitting there listening to the rain to think about texting her.

**Me:** _Are you awake?_

**Brittany:** _Yeah, are you?_

**Me:** _Yeah_

I took a moment to smile at my phone before sending another text.

_I'm outside_

I got nothing back. I sat for a few minutes, waiting, but still nothing popped up.

And then I noticed Brittany's front door crack open the tiniest bit; Brittany poked her head through. I stared for a moment before smiling. I stuffed my phone in my pocket and grabbed my keys before jumping out of the car and jogging to her front door.

Brittany let me slip in, closing the door behind me but remaining close. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, I spotted her smile.

"Hi," she said, and then reached out for my pinky. She led me up the stairs to her room. We sat on her bed, across from each other in a similar fashion as the chair before. My hair was drenched, my clothes close to being so.

"It's raining," I said as a stupid explanation. She nodded.

She pulled my hand into her lap and smiled.

"Hi," I said, a delayed response to her at the door. She laughed, but ignored me.

"Is that why you came?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

When I noticed the large bruise between her shoulder and neck, my eyes bugged. "Damn, Britt."

She looked confused for a moment before she smirked. "Battle scar."

My brain turned off again and I leaned forward and reached out to brush my fingers against the strange coloring on her skin. It wasn't until I saw her tongue poke between her lips that I realized how close we were once more.

I kept staring at the same spot on her skin, but I was encompassed by her, and my heart was beating so fast. I could feel her watching me, willing me to look at her. And it worked; I looked up. I couldn't get a hold of whatever helped me all the times before. And then I knew it was going to happen. Her eyes sparkled as she looked back at me; she knew it was going to happen, too.

Brittany leaned in, so slow, eyes locked on mine. My heart was beating rapidly, my mind racing faster and slower than ever at the same time. My breath hitched as her lips pressed against mine ever so gently.

(At 4:14, Brittany's lips touched mine.)

My body erupted in shivers. I was too afraid to open my eyes even though I didn't know when I had closed them. I was breathing hard, and I almost jolted out of bed when her lips captured mine in a longer, deeper kiss.

* * *

**¿Dónde vas? - Where are you going?**

**A casa de Brittany - Brittany's (house)**

**¿Para qué? - What for?**

**Me ha invitado a su casa para cocinar y cosas - She invited me to go over to her house so we can cook and stuff**

* * *

**First of all, I am very sorry for how bad I've been with updates. But, once again, I hope the chapter (at least somewhat) makes up for it.**

**A lot of the time, I tend to skip over anything that is not really Brittana moments, so I tried to do more of everything.**

**Tell me what you think?**


	8. Reactions

**CeeBeeGeeBee: I do that a lot, too, but I usual feel bad about it. And this chapter is mostly just Santana, but hopefully you still like it.**

**baconbreadstix: I actually got the idea because a few years back my brother and his friends actually did this. So, I guess they do. (I hid in the car.)**

**Thank you for all your reviews and/or adding to alerts/favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

The TV was on low and the room was still dim. For a while, we sat. And then I tried to leave (for the first time, I felt like I needed to get away from Brittany) but she refused to let me leave with the storm raging on outside. So instead of escaping, I was stuck with Brittany in her room.

It wasn't until she jumped from the sound of thunder that I started to feel bad for wanting to get away; comforting her through the storm was the reason I was there in the first place. I turned to her and started to put a hand on her back, but pulled away just before I could touch her.

"Britt," I whispered instead. She looked at me and gave a weak smile. I wanted to say, "It's okay" or "It's just thunder" but she already knew that and it wouldn't help her to be any less afraid. I decided on something better, something that would help. I slid off the bed and walked over to the entertainment center holding her TV. To the right was a stack of DVDs, which I knew held some of her favorites.

"Beauty and the Beast," she said, alerting me of her watching. I moved more carefully as I looked for the right case. After I placed the disc in the DVD player I moved back toward the bed. She was still watching me as I sat next to her; I was starting to feel nervous again. We just looked at each other for a moment, but as the play screen began again, I reached for the remote trapped in her hands. My arm gave a slight jolt when my fingers brushed hers, but she released the remote and I pressed play before turning up the volume.

Brittany was the first to lie down. It was more comfortable than sitting up, but with the smallness of her bed, her side was pressed into mine. My mind was too clouded and tired to pay attention to the movie and having her so close made my heart beat oddly, but the comfort of it outweighed everything and I began to drift off.

Just as I began to fully give in to sleep, her voice brought me back. "Thank you."

"Hm?" I managed.

"For being here," she explained. "I don't like being alone during storms."

"I know," I mumbled. I dropped my head to the side to face her, and there she was, her bright eyes right in front of mine. I was fully awake then, but I could barely breathe out, "You're welcome." She smiled a tired but happy smile. And then she was closer, and her lips were on mine; my eyes fell shut and I inhaled sharply.

I turned to face the ceiling, squeezed my eyes shut tight, and tried to breathe.

* * *

The first thing I noticed was the weight trapping my feet beneath the covers; the second was the light padding against the floor. I didn't want to open my eyes and let in the day, but the restrictions on my feet began to get to me.

And then, all of me stilled. I imagined myself snapping my eyes shut, but my eyes remained open, looking straight ahead. I watched as Brittany slowly twirled, hands behind her back clasping her bra together; she stopped abruptly, but gently, as her eyes landed on me.

She breathed in. "Hi." She breathed out slowly.

I was almost too busy taking in her exposed skin, but I couldn't ignore her voice. My eyes traveled up to meet hers; she bit her bottom lip softly before her lips slipped into a smile. A slight shiver ran through my body at the sight of her - the memory of the night before - starting in my cheeks, my arms, and spreading out; my chest felt tighter. As I shifted beneath the cover again I finally noticed Brittany's cat, Lord Tubbington, at the edge of the bed: the source holding my feet prisoner. I could swear he was glaring at me.

As Brittany began to speak again I drew my knees in and sat up, looking at her once more. She had her back turned to me, hands busy with a shirt. "I was waiting for my mom to be done with breakfast before I woke you." Her shoulders, her arms, her back, her legs all shifted as she bunched up her shirt and lifted it above her head. "You looked really peaceful." She slipped the material over her head, turning back to me as she pulled it down.

"Hi," I said. She smiled.

* * *

I was nervous. Everything was going too fast, too slow. I couldn't look at Brittany without thinking about it - the kiss. As we started down the stairs, Brittany curled her pinky around mine; I shivered slightly, but began to feel calmer, steadier.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I stepped toward the door, but Brittany pulled me toward the kitchen. I heard Brittany's mom before I saw her, and when we reached the kitchen I spotted her in front of the stove, flipping pancakes. At the end of the table was Brittany's dad with Brittany's sister to his left.

Brittany's dad looked up from his newspaper and smiled. "Morning, girls," he said.

"Morning," Brittany said; I gave an awkward nod.

"Have a seat," Brittany's mom said. "Breakfast will be done any minute."

Brittany turned to me then and asked, "What do you want to drink?"

"The juice is gone," Brittany's mom informed without looking back. "All we have left is milk and water." Brittany frowned slightly, but then released my pinky and bounded to the fridge. I began to feel anxious and far away; my hands quickly found each other.

Heat collected in my cheeks as I noticed Brittany's sister watching me as I stood there, alone, doing nothing but looking odd and out of place. Slowly, I started to feel an overwhelming need to leave.

"Have a seat, Hon," Brittany's mom said, stepping to the table with a plate of pancakes. Brittany's dad folded his paper and he and Brittany's sister started loading their plates.

"Oh, I um-" Brittany glanced over at me from the fridge, where she was putting the milk away "-my mom will be expecting me home soon..."

"You're not staying for breakfast?" Brittany questioned.

I just shook my head and Brittany's mom said, "Oh, what a shame. Another time, then?" I glanced at Brittany for a moment before looking to the table and giving a weak nod.

"Have a wonderful day, Santana," Brittany's dad said.

"You too," I replied.

Brittany made her way over to me, leaving the two full glasses of milk on the counter behind her. She took my pinky in hers again as we walked to her front door. She looked at me when we stopped in front of the door like she wanted to ask something, but remained silent.

"I better go," I said quietly. She tried to look in my eyes as I tried to avoid hers, and then she moved forward and pulled me into a hug; I relaxed into her for a moment, forgetting. She started to pull back, and then stopped. She leaned toward me and my heart jumped as I leaned back. I saw the disappointed look in her eyes as she pulled away, but I said nothing and she let me walk out the door.

I got in my car and took off, headed for my dad's. I felt lost as I drove.

(For as bad as I felt when I was trapped in Brittany's house, it was even worse when I was away from her.)

* * *

Eva was in the living room on the couch, leaning forward over the coffee table when I got to the house. It took a moment, I closed the door, and then she looked over. She put some papers down, leaned back and said, "Hey."

I opened my mouth, but I could already tell that no sound would come out; I sealed my lips and gave a nod. Neither of us said anything as she stood up and walked to the kitchen. I followed and sat at the table while she walked up to the counter. I heard her moving around, but my eyes stayed on my hands. I was almost completely out of it; my mind was somewhere else and I felt nothing like myself.

The sound of a mug being placed on the table made me look up. I reached out for the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, watching as Eva sat across from me.

"What's up?" she questioned, gentle and patient.

I stared down into the coffee before lifting it to my lips. "Nothing," I said, and took a sip. It brought me back, slightly, and I tried to focus on what was happening.

"You can tell me whatever you want," Eva said. "Or just talk, and I'll listen. And it stays between us."

It had never been my thing to tell people stuff, or talk about my feelings, but Eva asked anyway. She didn't ask in the way others did, though. She didn't ask just to ask to ask, she didn't ask just to know, she asked because she wanted me to have someone to tell it to - and have someone to help, if I'd let her. (And so she'd ask, and sometimes I'd tell her.)

It turned out to be one of the times I wanted to tell her. I didn't know if it was because I was so very confused or just because it had been so long since I'd actually had the privilege of having Eva there to ask. (I refused to call, because I was never the one to bring it up in the first place, but there were a few times where we would end up on the phone together - or I would be visiting - and she would ask.)

I took a few more sips before saying anything. "I just feel a bit confused." She said nothing, waiting, and I said nothing, thinking. I wanted to say something more, explain, but I couldn't. What was I explaining? It was edging on frustrating, because as scattered as it was in my head, trying to put everything into words made it all the more confusing.

"I don't know what's going on," I finally said. "I don't... know what to do."

She just sat for a moment, and then asked, "About what?"

This mostly just made me think of Brittany; she didn't even ask, she would just help.

(And my mind was clouded with _Brittany Brittany Brittany_.)

"Anything."

* * *

When I woke the next day, I grabbed my phone and the first thing I noticed was the little envelope at the top of the screen.

**Brittany:** g'_morning Santana Marie_

When I finished staring at her words, I actually looked at the time: 3:00pm.

(I didn't reply.)

I went down the hall to take a shower before making my way downstairs. I found out Mikey had been by, but since I was asleep and missed him, I got stuck at home. My mom put me on cleaning duty. I couldn't really complain, because there was really nothing else for me to do, so I spent the day cleaning my room, and the rest of the house, with my mom. And around eight, I helped prepare dinner for Antonio. (I say for Antonio because if he wasn't eating, an actual meal wouldn't be made.)

And all throughout the day, my mind kept telling me to text Brittany back. Except, when I reached for my phone, my head screamed _no no no!_ and my phone returned to my pocket.

* * *

Another morning, another text. It was actually morning when I woke, and the text was somewhat recent (but later than usual).

Both my mom and Antonio were still asleep when I got out of the shower. I took off to my dad's and, of course, he was already gone to work when I got there.

"Milkman's already gone," Eva told me from the couch when I walked in through the front door.

"I should get his schedule," I said. Eva smiled at me and started to stand but I told her I would get the coffee. It was almost silent while I prepared the coffee; Eva continued to riffle through whatever papers she had been messing with for the last few days and I stood around the kitchen. After pouring two steaming cups of coffee, I joined her on the couch. She accepted the coffee and turned the TV on for me.

I managed to keep myself occupied until two, in which I barely paid attention to the TV and mostly stared into my coffee cup. My dad showed up then, and we had Cuban sandwiches for lunch. It was an almost normal event, with good food and free flowing conversation, but there was even less from me as I listened to my dad and Eva talk. I continued to feel only half there, hardly feeling any connection to being real.

My mind was much too empty and much too full all at once and I found myself in a mix between the other stage #1 and stage #2. Being back in Lima was nothing like I ever thought it would be; my best friends were not my best friends anymore, I had not returned to the person I was before, my little town happiness had not automatically returned. The thing I had not wished for, though, was Brittany - and she was the best thing; she was beyond any other person I had ever had in my life, and she helped so so much.

But it was getting bad again without her around. And I couldn't stop missing her, and I couldn't stop refusing to talk to her.

* * *

I didn't think much more after I decided to do it. I only knew it was evening and I needed to get away. So I gathered my phone and earphones before heading out the door; with the music loud in my ears, I ran.

With it being so early, I had the chance to get myself a drink at the nearby station. Usually, as to not be rude, I would remove my earphones before paying, but that night I needed it; I needed to be as lost in the music as I could. So as I stepped up to the counter I left my earphones in with the music playing loud and paid for the water before walking out.

I made my way to the usual spot in the middle of the track with only half my water left before I let myself rest. I sat there in the dirt, drinking my water. As I drank, my thoughts began to seep in and the music began to fade out.

I thought back to Thursday morning, and I thought back and I thought back and I thought back.

And then I thought of Wednesday night, and I thought back and I thought back and I thought back.

My chest tightened anxiously and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. It was almost constant, thinking about that night; I both pulled it in and shoved it away (and I wasn't sure which I actually wanted: to keep it in my mind and play it again and again and again because when it was happening it was the most magical thing ever or shove it away forever because there was no possible way that it actually happened).

It didn't take long for me to dismiss my thoughts and lie back. For a while, I just lay there, looking up to the stars. I tried to just take it in, but thoughts of that first night began to fill my mind. That night, sitting in the same spot, looking up at the stars with Brittany's head in my lap. And the more I thought, the more I began to realize: something was missing.

For the first time, instead of simply sitting and relaxing - since my relaxing was obviously already disturbed - I got up and began to walk around. There were remnants of the firework war scattered across the track, which only made me think of Brittany, and the colorful bruise she received, more.

(And my mind was clouded with _Brittany Brittany Brittany_.)

I made my way around to the announcers stand, weaving through the poles supporting the structure until I spotted a nicely drawn arrow. I walked forward, in the indicated direction of the arrow, to another pole. It, too, had an arrow; I followed it to the left. The third arrow was on the ladder, pointing up. There were five more drawn on either side as I climbed up. At the top, six more arrows on the railing lead me around to the opposite side of the platform. And there, in familiar writing, was a quote:

"_Normality is a paved road: It's comfortable to walk,__but no flowers grow on it." _

_-Vincent van Gogh_

She could have written it at any time, for any reason, but I somehow felt like it was for me. A strange feeling, that only seemed to appear as a result to Brittany, bubbled up, and it felt like there was slightly less missing.

(And my mind was clouded with _Brittany Brittany Brittany_.)

No matter the message, I always felt an odd comfort in Brittany's quotes.

* * *

It would have been closer to go to my mom's, but I returned to my dad's. He wasn't there, and Eva was asleep, so I settled on crashing on the couch in front of the TV.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I was waking to my dad's voice.

"Despierta mi niña."

I could feel myself becoming more aware of everything around me, but I just grumbled and rolled to my side; I didn't want to be awake, have to think. "Wake up," he said again, shaking me gently. I flipped onto my back and opened my eyes to see him smiling above me. "It's 2:00am, why don't we get to bed?" I nodded and walked with my dad until we split to go to our own rooms. I didn't bother to change before I fell to my bed, and back to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up at 2 o'clock, there was another good morning text and, to my surprise, there was another one along with it.

**Artie:** _lima bean 2nite?_

I considered saying no; I didn't know if I wanted to deal with being around people. But then, after a few minutes, I decided that maybe it would help.

**Me:** _6?_

(I didn't respond to Brittany.)

It took about an hour, but as I was getting out of the shower, I got a text back.

**Artie:** _of course _

**Me: **_See you there_

The time passed slowly, but then I was in the parking lot and heading to the front door. I spotted Mike and Artie right away, already walking toward me as soon as I was inside.

They each went to one side of me, throwing an arm around either of my shoulders. It reminded me of the first day I saw them after being back, and, for a moment, of how it used to be.

"Who's ready for a great night?" Artie questioned.

"I sure am," Mike answered.

"Two of the best people in the world and one of the best places in the world," Artie started, but was then interrupted by Mike saying, "In the world?"

"Whatever, man," Artie threw back. "In Lima, then. Anyway, point is, it's bound to be an amazing night."

I laughed, but said nothing as they lead me to our table. I felt an odd mix between normal and abnormal as Artie left Mike and I at the table to get our food.

We sat for a moment before I asked, "Where's Tina?"

"She decided not to come tonight," Mike explained. "Just the three of us not good enough anymore?"

I shook my head. "No, no, it's good. I just wondered." He smiled.

It got quiet again, but not quite awkward. Mike was just sitting there, looking around occasionally and smilng pleasantly. I took comfort in his ability to make things calm. While we sat, I managed to peak at the picture I took of Brittany's quote before Artie was back with food, just because I couldn't resist.

We had the usual: two slices of pizza each for Mike and Artie, one slice for me, and three random drinks.

The night was already settling my mind. It was almost like everything was back to normal, but I knew it was still different. Different, but so much better than the last attempt. I didn't know if Tina was actually that big of an influence over my mood or if I had just become more accustomed to everything. I leaned toward the latter, considering, even though I never really knew her too well, I didn't have anything against Tina. (I may have been a little apprehensive about her at first, but with the help of Brittany I realized how ridiculous it was; I couldn't blame Tina for what was my problem.)

And then we finished eating and I was being dragged to the other side of the building. I was almost surprised when we went passed the xbox, because before, even though I was close to terrible at playing video games, they would stop and play more often than not.

And I knew, in some way, that all of this was a little out of the blue. It wouldn't have been before, because that was pretty much how our days (and especially Sunday's) always went. But it was not then, and things had changed. But I let it go, because it was happening and I was actually starting to enjoy myself.

Mike and Artie led me through the door to the basketball cage and I rolled my eyes.

"Not up for the challenge?" Artie remarked.

"Fuck you," I said, but he just smirked and Mike laughed, so I added, "I'm always up for a challenge."

"I'm sure you are," Mike said, throwing the ball to Artie.

So we played, for an hour, and I got my ass kicked.

I was the first one out of the cage. Mike and Artie laughed as they followed me out, but I definitely did not.

"Oh, c'mon," Artie laughed.

"It wasn't that bad," Mike said, trying to hold back his laugh.

I said nothing and went back to the other side of the building to get drinks. After downing half my water bottle, and watching Mike and Artie race to down their bottles, I was coaxed over to the ping pong table.

After five minutes of my first round against Mike, Artie jumped in to help me even though I didn't need it.

"What!" Mike complained. But we continued on, and twenty minutes later I was crowned winner.

Next, it was Artie against Mike. I only waited a few minutes before jumping in on Mike's side, earning a "Traitor!" from Artie. When the last round started, Mike didn't even wait before jumping in to my side.

"Cheaters!" Artie complained, but he was laughing.

"It's all fair game," Mike said back, shrugging before hitting the ball. We won, of course, which technically meant I won all three rounds.

We ended the night with relaxing on the couch and watching an episode of Doctor Who on Netflix.

I was right: it worked as a distraction (until that night when I lay in bed, unable to sleep).

* * *

On Monday, as per usual, I woke up to a good morning text. I started to feel bad, because she kept giving, but I couldn't bring myself to respond.

And then that afternoon, Quinn randomly started texting me, starting with:

_Hey San, what's up?_

To which I responded:

_Doing some maid work around the house. Any tips?_

It continued throughout most of the day as I helped my mom clean the house, and then about an hour before dinner, I received:

_Movie at my house?_

I thought about saying no, but then I considered how the night before turned out and said yes. Thirty minutes later, I was pulling up next to Quinn's house.

* * *

**Despierta mi niña = Wake up baby girl**

* * *

**Again, I'm sorry for the wait. I hope the chapter isn't too horrible.**

**Tell me what you think?**


	9. Meals and Movies

**maskedreader21: **I'm both happy and not happy that you can relate. I'm glad that it actually makes sense, and kind of gives you something to relate to, but it sucks at the same time that you go through that. Thanks for the review, I'll try to update again soon with a hopefully not bad chapter.

**Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and/or adding to alerts/favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

When Quinn's front door opened, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the person standing there. Out of all the people I would have guessed to be there, Rachel Berry was not one of them.

"Hey Santana," she greeted.

I took a moment, too busy thinking, and then responded, "Berry." She was already standing to the side, providing space for me to enter, and her smile faltered slightly, but I stepped in and she closed the door. It only took a glance into the kitchen to spot Quinn.

"Took long enough," Quinn joked.

"Sorry, Q, I know you were just dying to see me." Quinn laughed, but then Rachel interrupted, asking, "What would you like to drink?"

"Water's fine," I told her. She flashed a smile before moving toward Quinn in the kitchen, leaving me to wonder why she was even there. I made my way to sit on the couch opposite the TV in the living room; the familiarity from being there so many times gave me a sense of comfort.

I tried to focus my attention on the previews that were playing on the TV but none were interesting enough to hold much of my attention. Quinn and Rachel were talking behind me, but not loud enough for me to actually hear most of what they were saying, so I didn't pay attention to that, either.

"Here is your water," Rachel said, suddenly at my side. I looked over and accepted the water; instead of going back to the kitchen like I thought she would, she put a bowl of chips down on the coffee table, stepped past me, and took a seat next to me on the couch.

"Although I don't know exactly how I feel about the movie selection," she began, "I do hope it's good."

"What are we watching?" I asked, realizing I had no idea. Her mouth opened, but then-

"Hey, Santana Marie." I was still for a moment, taking in the gentleness of her voice, before I twisted to look behind myself. I took in a breath and held without meaning to; I breathed out, "Brittany."

Quinn walked around to the living room and I realized Rachel had been looking between Brittany and I. She had this half frown-half smile, but before I could even fully see it, she stood up and moved to sit next to Quinn on the couch to my left.

"Sit down, B," Quinn said, taking the remote Rachel handed her. Brittany looked at me for a moment before maneuvering between the end of the couch and the side table and taking the empty spot next to me.

"We're watching Zombieland," Quinn said, pressing the play button.

I felt Brittany shift next to me, but I didn't look over. I was nervous, so nervous, sitting next to her. Was she mad that I hadn't talked to her, or (worse?) did she not even care? _She didn't look mad a second ago, when she said my name_, I thought, but then it occurred to me I had never encountered a mad Brittany. It was hard to imagine.

We were about a minute into the movie, and I hadn't paid much attention, and then I couldn't resist looking over anymore. So I peeked over and her eyes were set on the TV. I briefly noticed Quinn and Rachel paying less than full attention to the movie before I looked back, but I was too lost in my head to pay attention to them.

A few minutes later I looked over again, because in some part of my mind I wanted her to look at me, too. On my fourth glance over, Brittany was looking back at me. My heart sped up and I whipped my head back to look at the TV screen. Who-knows-how-long later, I felt Brittany's hand brush against mine and I nearly jumped out of my skin, but then her pinkie was curling around mine. I chanced a look over and she was looking back; Brittany smiled and I calmed.

She waited to make sure I wouldn't look away, and then leaned in close; I stilled when I felt her breath against the side of my face. She whispered, "'There's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself,'" lingered, for just a moment, then continued, "Jonathan Safran Foer," and pulled back.

It was her, it was me, but we didn't talk about it.

* * *

By the end of the movie, my eyes were heavy with sleep. I had not slept well the previous nights and that, along with the comfort from Brittany, resulted in me being half asleep. Had Brittany not leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Wake up," I probably would have fallen asleep. And, thankfully, that also prevented Quinn and Rachel from noticing.

"Who's ready for dinner?" Quinn asked, just after the timer on the oven beeped.

Brittany pulled her pinkie from mine and stood up quickly, saying, "Oo, what are we having?" I stood up next to her and looked over to Quinn.

"Rachel was nice enough to help me," Quinn said, glancing over to her as she stood up. "So..."

"We have prepared a lovely veggie meatloaf with roasted potatoes," Rachel took over. "I am aware you two are unfamiliar with vegan food, but I assure you it is very delicious; you can ask Quinn."

I looked at Quinn skeptically, thinking, _veggie fucking meatloaf? _because that sounded nowhere near good, and, _Quinn? _because her first love was forever bacon. I wanted to say something but, on account of Brittany being right next to me, I said nothing. I almost changed my mind, however, when I glanced over and saw the uncertain look on Brittany's face.

Quinn nodded, confirming Rachel's statement, and we moved to the kitchen.

Quinn went to set the table, Rachel took her "meatloaf" out of the oven, and just as I moved to take my seat at the table, Brittany asked, "Can we sit in the living room?"

It was only the four of us because Quinn's parents were gone to some dinner party, so Quinn said yes. We each got a plate and Rachel was happy to serve us before we went back into the living room. Quinn allowed Brittany to drag the coffee table out of the way and we sat on the floor; Brittany and I sat with our backs resting against the couch we sat in before, Quinn sat with her back to the couch on our left and Rachel sat with her back to the couch on our right. We put on another movie - Rachel's choice of The Notebook - as we ate. Or as I stared at my plate while everybody else ate.

"You're not eating?" Brittany asked me.

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "_This_?" She said nothing, so I continued. "This looks horrible, Britt." She just looked at me. "Am I seriously expected to eat this?" And then I noticed a smile creeping onto her face. I paused, trying not to get nervous. "What?"

She smiled a full smile then. "Nothing," she answered. One part of me wanted a better answer, but the other part of me smiled a little because, _Brittany_, and things were just like normal. (And things with Quinn seemed almost normal, too.)

* * *

It was around 9:30 when everyone decided to leave - everyone being me and Brittany because it didn't seem like Rachel was leaving. So after saying goodbye, Brittany and I walked out the door to our cars. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what, and when we reached our cars all I could offer was a lame, "Night." But then her arms were taking me in and it almost didn't matter.

I didn't want to let go when we did, but it had to happen. She smiled and walked around to the drivers side of her car, but before I could even move there was a buzz in my pocket. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and looked away from Brittany.

**Mikey:**_ Are you down for the movies friday?_

I looked back up to Brittany, who was paused at her door.

"Hey, Britt," I called, and she just tilted her head. "What do you think about going to the movies?"

"Okay," she said. Her lips tugged up and mine followed as I sent my response.

**Me: **_Yeah_

I finally moved to get in my car when Brittany said, "Night, Santana Marie," and then slipped into her own car.

* * *

I wish I could say I was waiting all Friday afternoon for my brother to show up, which, to a degree, was true; I did want him to show up. Nevertheless, the actual reason I was so eagerly waiting was due to wanting to see Brittany as soon as I could. My brother had always been one of my favorite people, and I loved to hang out with him, but even the idea of being around Brittany excited me. (I felt so good around her.) On top of everything, I had been without her for a few days and we had only just gotten _us_ back to normal; it was my own thick-headed fault, but I felt like I somehow needed to compensate that time.

And it was definitely not a day to wake up early (or not-late). But I woke up at noon and, like usual, checked my phone; it had become a habit, looking for her text. I smiled at the familiar words and replied. Brittany was swift to send another text and I could tell she was pleased that I responded.

Our texts quickly evolved into conversation and she asked me about the movie:

_What are we seeing?_

And I had no idea, so I said:

_I didn't ask_

She said it was fine, of course, and when I offered to ask Mikey she said I didn't have to - it would be a surprise. I wanted to ask if she would care to come over, but she would already be spending at least a few hours with me later, so I let it be. I was happy just talking to her anyway. (And I wanted to ask Mikey when we were going to see the movie, but I didn't want to bother.)

And then around six that night, when I went downstairs to get a drink, I found out Mikey finally showed up; Joe was with him, and they had been talking to my mom for a while. I continued into the kitchen to get my drink before I joined them in the office. About halfway through my drink, we decided to leave and I sent Brittany a text. And then I got nervous.

When we got to Brittany's, I tripped getting out of the backseat of Mikey's car and hoped she didn't see and that it wouldn't happen again; it was bad enough Mikey and Joe witnessed it.

"Santana!" Brittany's mom said after opening the door.

"Hi," I said back.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked, already moving a little to the side.

"I don't think-" I started to say, but then I saw Brittany, who was walking toward us. I bit my lip to catch my smile at the sight of her; she looked wonderful, with the brown and white trapper hat resting on her head and over her ears.

"Hey," Brittany said, smiling at me while her mother looked between us and smiled. Neither seemed to care that I hadn't finished my sentence. I wanted to say something back to Brittany, or finish that sentence, but in my silence she spoke. "See you later, Mom."

And then she was moving toward me and linking her pinkie with mine. Her mom wished us a good night and we took off down the driveway to Mikey's car.

* * *

The trip from Lima to Columbus was almost two hours, and even though Mikey and Joe were there too, with the music blasting through the car it felt like just Brittany and I, left alone in our corner of the back seat to talk. Another thing about the music, though, was that it required Brittany to lean in, so close, for me to hear anything she said.

We were about halfway there, and Brittany was speaking directly into my ear. Ironically, I was so distracted by her I couldn't pay attention to the words she spoke; all I knew was the feel of her warm breath ghosting across my skin.

I turned, because I knew she asked something, and I knew I was supposed to answer, but I didn't know what she asked and I didn't have an answer - and then there were chills, serging throughout my stiff body, because she was right there and I was breathing her air.

I looked to her lips, she licked them. I thought about it, and then glanced up; she was thinking about it too.

I turned to face the back of the front seat.

* * *

When we made it to the theater, walking across the parking lot, I thought to ask what we would be watching.

"The Amazing Spider-Man," Mikey said.

I leaned over to Brittany and whispered, "Is that okay with you?"

She smiled at me. "Yeah, it sounds cool."

And then Mikey handed us our tickets and we were walking through the front doors, standing in the snack line, finding our seats.

Once we were settled in our seats, watching the trailers on screen, I rested my arm on the armrest between Brittany and I. There was a clunk of Brittany's drink hitting the holder, and then her warm skin was sliding against my hand, her pinkie slipping around mine.

The movie went on, her pinkie holding mine, not letting go even when I felt the sweat gather on my skin. I shifted, thinking of pulling away, but then she gave me a squeeze. (I worried, but she smiled.)

She didn't let go as we threw away our trash, exited the theater; she didn't let go when we waited outside the bathroom for Mikey, or when he glanced to our hands when he walked out; she didn't let go when we walked out of the building, to the car.

And then she let go so we could pile back into Mikey's car. She let me in first, climbed in behind me, and then as soon as we were in our corner of the back seat, she pulled my hand into her lap.

I didn't think about where we were going; partially, it was because it just hadn't crossed my mind, but mostly, it was because of Brittany. So we rode, she played with my hand, and I was oblivious to anything outside of the car - or outside of the back seat, really. (Because my mind whirled with her every stroke across my fingers, her thumb sliding over my palm, her every little touch, her skin against mine.)

We stopped without me knowing, and I didn't realize where we were until Brittany dragged me out of the car. I could tell by the excitement on her face that she had never been there, and suddenly I didn't care that I almost tripped for a second time because of her. I had only been there once before myself, a few summers ago with Mikey and his friends. I already knew this time would be more interesting, with Brittany leading us ahead to discover the towers, tunnels, and bridges of the wooden park.

We quickly found a balance beam - that seemed way too high for a park - and Brittany was already halfway across before she noticed I stopped following. She twirled, graceful in a way that seemed impossible for where she was standing, to look at me.

Her head tilted to the side and she asked, "You coming?"

I shook my head. "I can't balance for shit."

A smile started to creep onto her face as she looked at me. "Just try."

Brittany got what she wanted from me more often than not, but sometimes I just couldn't; and it definitely felt like one of those times. I kept picturing myself giving in and stepping onto to the beam - and then falling off. I shook my head.

"Saaaaan," she complained.

"I can't, Britt." Her smile retreated, slowly replaced by a pout. (Why did she have to look at me like that?)

"You haven't even tried yet," she pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "Because I already know I can't do it."

She started moving closer, said, "Well maybe you can now. But if you don't even try, you'll never know!" I couldn't stop my smile. "C'mon."

(In my head it replayed: stepping forward, falling off.)

I shook my head.

"Santana Marie." She was right in front of me, looking straight at me. "It'll be fine, I'll even help you." Her hands pressed to my hips, and she led me to take a stiff, hesitant step forward. She smiled, saying, "Don't look at the ground." With my second foot on the beam, I looked up.. Her eyes were shining, watching me in delight; the smile was back.

When I closed my eyes, I heard her chuckle. "You have to keep your eyes open."

I stepped forward, she stepped back. I looked to her feet, wondering how she could do it backwards when I couldn't even do it forwards; she squeezed my hip and looked back up.

"'If it scares you, it might be a good thing to try,'" she said. "Seth Godin."

She made me forgot I was even walking on the beam and I smiled, allowing myself to just concentrate on her face.

The sound of abrupt impetuous stomps caused me to flinch, and there it was: I was going to fall just like I-

Brittany pulled me against her chest and I clung to her unyieldingly, my head tucking snugly under her chin; my heart was racing. "It's okay," she whispered with a firm squeeze to my waist.

"Hey, there they are!" someone shouted. I looked up so quickly my nose hit Brittany's chin, but then she was smiling at me and pulling me the rest of the way onto the platform and off the beam. She lingered, but when she let go I turned and looked over just in time to see Mikey and his friends. They were moving like maniacs, running and jumping and maneuvering around the playground.

"Santana!" Mikey called as he swung into the lower part of a nearby tower.

"Come on!" Brittany burst out, catching my pinkie in hers and tugging me along after them.

* * *

We ended up at Mikey's house. It was messy, with writing and scratches and smoke on the coffee table with cups, phones, laptops, and random cords atop it. There were a few pairs of shoes under it and three socks scattered on the carpet, one being attacked by a kitten. The walls had a few posters: one of Bob Marley, one with two girls, wearing headphones, kissing - which I quickly looked away from - and one that was a traffic sign with a grizzly bear and claw marks. The couch was worn, but mostly covered with the guys - who, apart from Jesse St. James, I didn't recognize - sitting on it watching some movie on TV. Joe sat on the couch next to a guy with raggedy blond hair, Mikey sat on the recliner across the room against the kitchen wall, and because of the limited space and the amount of people in Mikey's living room, Brittany and I ended up sharing the recliner next to the door. (It made me slightly nervous, but I couldn't really complain.)

After a while, most of the guys left. Joe and Jesse stayed, because they lived there, but Jesse went to his room and Mikey moved over to the couch. Brittany sent her mom a text, because we were staying the night, and got more into conversation with Mikey and Joe, but I just kept listening. Even after being back with my friends and everyone I knew, I still failed with conversation.

By the time midnight approached, Joe was gone and Mikey went off to take a shower.

"Watch whatever you guys want," he said before closing his door.

Brittany rested her head on my shoulder. We didn't move, we didn't say anything, and I couldn't believe how comfortable it was.

* * *

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

I shuffled forward and stood up, my arm stretching over to Brittany, who failed to release my pinkie. "I'll make you something," I said. She smiled up at me and let go.

My search of the fridge didn't end with anything great; there wasn't much in there. When I moved to the pantry, I discovered a box of spaghetti. I set it out on the counter before reopening the fridge to grab the sauce I saw before. I also found some hamburger meat, even if it wasn't much. I looked, but there was no bread of any kind.

I racked my brain to remember, and finally settled on setting the oven to 425° for the meatballs. I took a few minutes finding and gathering the rest of the ingredients utensils I needed. Surprisingly, they had almost everything.

While the water was heating up on the stove, I began on the meatballs. I threw what little there was into a bowl and mixed it with a fork; my mom would have rolled her eyes and said I needed to use my hands. To avoid the part where I couldn't get out of using my hands - rolling the meatballs - a little longer, I glanced over to the water; it was boiling, so I dropped the spaghetti in.

The sound of the TV disappeared, replaced by a low shuffling from behind me, and then something bumped into me lightly. As I started to turn my head to look, gentle arms snaked around my waist; I looked back to the stove as she rested her head on my back. I'd gotten used to Brittany hugs by then - mostly - but that was something completely different, somehow. Her front pressing against my back, breaths making the ends of my hair fly, heat seeping into me.

I was finally pulled out of my mind when the water boiled over the pan; I hurriedly moved it away and turned the heat down, but Brittany made no effort to move. She nuzzled against me and laughed.

"What're you making?" she asked.

"Spaghetti and three meatballs," I told her, moving the pan back.

"Three meatballs?"

"Yup. That's all we have enough for."

She chuckled, and then asked, "Can I help?"

Part of me said no, because I was making it for her; the other part said yes, because I really didn't want to mess with the meatballs. I nodded, suggested, "Make the meatballs?"

My skin prickled when she moved away and the air wafted over me.

* * *

While I transferred everything over to a single plate, Brittany filled two glasses of water and then we moved back into the living room. We abandoned the recliner by the door for the couch, so we could use the coffee table. We didn't turn the TV back on, but Brittany talked, and I listened. It was the kind of listening I could do for hours, not the kind that irritated me to no end because I couldn't contribute anything. (Brittany made it okay.)

"You should cook for me more often," Brittany said. I smiled over at her; the smile she sent back made it difficult to chew.

"Maybe," I told her.

"Totally better than the meatloaf." I laughed

We got down to half a plate, and there was one meatball left, so I pushed it over to Brittany with my fork.

"Wait, wait!"

I stopped. She put her fork down, I followed, and then she started pulling her hair back. "Okay," she said, and then bent down. I watched, confused, until her nose pressed against the meatball and she started rolling it back to me. I moved my hand over my mouth to hide my smile.

She sat back up and said, "There," looking proud. I just looked over at her, and a moment later, she bit her lip. I picked my fork up and split it in half.

* * *

It was almost two in the morning by the time I had our dishes clean and we settled onto the middle of the couch. The kitten, Ajax, was curled up in Brittany's lap, fast asleep as she flipped through the channels. We ended up on Adventure Time, Brittany's new favorite show as of the Wednesday before, and before the end of the first commercial, I could feel my eyes drooping.

I barely heard the murmur of Brittany's voice saying, "Goodnight, Santana Marie," before I fell asleep.

* * *

**I wrote a little something from Brittany's pov, which you can find here: ahmanduhz . tumblr . com**

**/post/36906986195**

**Tell me what you think?**


	10. Abuela's House

Brittany was the first to wake up - three hours before me - at 9:00A.M. She had the TV on, volume low as to not wake anyone, but once my eyes adjusted, I found her smiling at me. She leaned over and whispered, "Morning," before pressing her lips to my temple. I could only stare at her and she just looked back.

"This is a new episode," she said, looking over to the TV. I let my eyes sweep over the side of her face before turning to the episode of Spongebob on the screen.

About an hour later, Mikey got up. He went into the kitchen, got himself a drink, and joined us on the couch. Less than 20 minutes later he started talking about food and we were headed out the door for lunch.

It wasn't until late Saturday afternoon that we made the trip back to Lima.

I was getting ready for bed that night when my eyes landed on Brittany's hoodie for what seemed like the hundredth time. (She left it in Mikey's car, so I had to put it somewhere.) I grabbed my phone, dropped into bed, and my eyes drifted back to the hoodie resting on the edge of my bed; I stared at it, wishing she was in it.

I reached down for the hoodie, trying to move as little as possible, and pulled it up in front of me. I unlocked my phone and pulled up her name.

_I have your hoodie_ I sent.

_I'm not paying the ransom _she sent back. I instantly felt the corner of my lips tilting up.

**Me: **_Not even a little? _

_Don't you want it back?_

**Brittany: **_I'd be happy to let you keep it_

My fingers gripped onto soft gray material.

**Me: **_You left it in mikey's car_

**Brittany: **_You'll just have to hold onto it for me i guess_

Somehow, I ended up holding it against my chest.

**Me: **_I won't make you pay the ransom_

**Brittany: **_Thanks :)_

I couldn't help but think about the night before, when I had her with me. (And I wanted her there next to me again, sharing the silence.)

_Night Santana Marie_

_Night britt_

My mind was making it difficult to sleep, so when Brittany sent her usual good morning text, I was actually awake to hear it; I was quick to text back.

**Me: **_Morning, britt_

**Brittany: **_You're up!_

_Why are you up?_

**Me: **_Oh, thanks._

I watched my phone, anxiously awaiting her reply. A moment later, before my phone beeped, I realized my arms were tangled with her hoodie.

**Brittany: **_I'm glad you're up!_

_Maybe_

_Did you stay up all night?_

I smiled, forgetting about the hoodie.

**Me: **_No, but I didn't sleep well_

I got her for an hour. She left me with _"A Japanese legend says that if you can't sleep at night it's because you're awake in someone else's dream." - anonymous_ and then I was alone. Briefly, I let myself think about the possibility that she had been dreaming about me (but there was no way that could be true).

After a semi-long shower, I stepped out and made the mistake of looking straight ahead.

The mirror.

I hated when it happened, because it never ended good. And as I stood there, staring at myself, I knew that wouldn't change. But the thing is, I couldn't look away - it caught me, and I was forced to look, notice everything I hated.

(Some days, I would actually think I looked fine - good, even - but then I looked some more.)

Most of the time I managed to not look. Due to all the avoiding, however, sometimes when I did look I couldn't even recognize myself.

This was one of those times.

So I tore my eyes away and snatched at my pile of clothes. I didn't realize I had included Brittany's hoodie until I was putting it on; her smell invaded my senses and even though I forget my shirt, I couldn't bring myself to take it off. I quickly threw on the rest of my clothes before texting Quinn.

It wasn't exactly the number one thing I wanted to do - especially because I didn't even like being up so early - but I didn't think I could take being in my company any longer. Plus, I hadn't talked to Quinn in a few days.

**Quinn: **_Sorry, S, rents arent up for church company. But maybe we can hang soon?_

(Before, Quinn would drag me along even though her dad never really liked me.)

**Me: **_Yeah, sure_

I pocketed my phone and went downstairs to the kitchen, jumping slightly when Antonio spoke.

"Hey, Kiddo," he said, looking up. "Coffee?" I nodded and took a seat at the counter.

While he made the coffee, he started talking about work, and I listened. When I got my coffee, I drank, and I listened until he left.

My mind felt vacuous, but I couldn't stop thinking. I could already feel stage #2 sinking in. Every time I was alone, I was immediately reminded of the mess that was my life. I had almost nothing. I couldn't even start to be bored, really, because I was so hopeless.

I didn't like days without Brittany; they felt like I didn't have her, like I was alone again, like things weren't getting better, because only on days with her did I feel like I had something, like I was worth anything.

After a second cup of coffee, I left the kitchen. I walked back up to my room for shoes before I told my mom I was leaving. She told me to have fun and I went out the door, stopping to grab my Ipod from my car before I heading off.

I guided a bud into each ear as I started walking down the sidewalk, turning up the music once they were secure. I had the urge to run, drain all my energy so I could collapse, sleep, and forget, but I couldn't; I didn't have the energy to go any faster, so I walked.

I wanted to end up at the track, because there was something about being there that made me feel better, but I had never been there during the day, and I didn't want to sit there, exposed in the sunlight, so my feet took my across town to the next best place.

(The memory of sitting with Brittany at Mikey's flashed through my mind.)

I stepped inside and as soon as I breathed in I knew my dad wasn't home.

"Hey," came Carmen's voice. I closed the door and looked over to both her and Eva in the living room.

"Santana," Eva said with a smile, twisting to look at me. "Come sit with us."

I joined them in the living room, but tuned out of the most of the conversation and watched the forgotten TV.

"Nice hoodie." I jumped a little at the unknown voice and glanced up. The older guy with shaggy beard and messy hair walked across the room and took a seat between Eva and I.

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled, gazing down at it.

He smiled at me and then turned to grab the offered blunt from Carmen while Eva left the room with a goodnight to everyone.

The guy brought the blunt to his lips and, after pulling it back, looked at me. He held it out and I eyed it for a moment before shaking my head and focusing back on the TV. I stayed until more strangers filed in and crowded the room.

And then I was alone on my bed.

* * *

I was awake again before I knew it and Mikey was picking me up to go to dinner with our mom and Antonio.

It was complete Déjà vu from the first time I saw her; I was in the booth from before and she was across the room at the table near the window. She was watching me and the only differences from before were the little sparkle in her eyes and the fact that I had an ounce more confidence that gave me the ability to stare back.

Brittany kept her eyes on me but talked with her family off and on; I watched her and didn't talk to mine. Every second I sat there, with her but not, I could feel my chest getting fuller. Fuller and fuller and fuller; I could feel my whole body buzz.

"Psst." I tried to ignore it. "Psst." Brittany gave me a smile and an almost unseen nod and I finally turned my head. "Food's gonna get cold," Mikey said.

And then, almost like before, I looked over and she was gone. Before I could feel too bad, though, I noticed something on the ground. However, just as I was about to get up, a server walked past and bent down.

I jumped out of my seat.

"Wait!" I blurted, embarrassingly loud. He gave me a weird look, but I reached down and snatched the piece of paper, mumbling a quick "I got it" before taking off to the bathroom.

The door swung closed behind me and I walked over to the sinks, turned to lean against the counter and immediately looked down to the paper in my hands. For a moment, that's all I did: looked at it. But then, slowly, I unfolded it until I saw the familiar scrawl.

_"Sometimes people are beautiful._

_Not in looks._

_Not in what they say._

_Just in what they are."_

_-Markus Zusak_

Something inside me jumped as I let my eyes scan over the words again and again and again.

"So," Mikey said, holding the door for me to walk out behind my mom and Antonio, who were walking a few feet ahead of us, off in their own conversation. He stepped up to my side and I looked over, waiting. "Your friend is pretty cool."

"Huh?" I responded. He nudged me lightly, and I glanced over; Brittany and her family were just a few steps away, standing near the restaurants sculptures. "Yeah," I muttered, smiling at the ground.

I felt his arm drape around my shoulders and I frowned, unsure of why he was acting so weird. I elbowed him away, but he just laughed.

"You should invite her to Abuela's."

"I forgot about that," I mused. "Why?"

"Because why not?" was his only response. And then he pushed me forward, causing me to stumbled right into Brittany. She steadied me and I kept my eyes down until I heard her sweet giggle. Reluctantly, I looked up; she just smiled.

"Hi." I hadn't meant to whisper.

"Hey there," she said, almost as low as me. I slowly pulled back from her grip, but her smile grew. "You're wearing it." For a moment, I was only more confused. By the time I realized what she was talking about, it was too late to say anything.

Her fingers slipped under the hem of the hoodie. The backs of her fingers brushed against my skin and her eyes shifted back up to mine.

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. (My whole face was on fire.)

"It looks good on you," she remarked, not moving her hands. I swallowed, feeling her skin against mine all too intensely.

When Brittany looked down, I did, too. Her little sister was standing against her leg, tugging at her clothes.

"It's time to go," she muttered to Brittany, who nodded. The girl skipped back over to her parents.

"I guess it's time to go," she repeated to me.

I nodded, not wanting her to.

"I'm glad that you were here tonight."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Me too."

"I better go."

"Okay."

She smiled and turned to walk off. I let her get barely one step away before I called, "Britt!" She spun around with a smile.

"Yeah?" she questioned.

"Uhm, tomorrow we're going to my abuela's for a few days," I informed. "I was... do you wanna come along?"

Her smile got bigger. "That sounds awesome. I'll talk to my parents and call you later?"

I nodded and then watched her leave.

* * *

Even though we had no plane to catch, or certain time to be anywhere, we had to get up early. Seven in the morning early. Normally, I wouldn't bother with a shower that early, but the knowledge that I would be with Brittany soon made me take one.

As soon as we pulled up outside Brittany's house, I saw her already walking out the door. I helped her get her bags in the truck, we squished into the backseat between Mikey and Joe and then we drove off. Less than an hour later I was half asleep, and only just had enough energy to lean in the opposite direction to rest my head on Mikey's shoulder after I realized I was leaning against Brittany.

I startled, closing my mouth when I woke for the second time. Urgently, I looked over to Brittany and was slightly relieved to find her looking out the window. She must have sensed me looking, however, because not a second later she was gazing back at me. She smiled and I heard a laugh from the other side of the backseat.

We stopped for lunch at a truckstop with a Subway in it. Antonio pulled up to pump four, and when the rest of us got out to go inside, Brittany's pinky found mine. Brittany, Joe and Mikey pushed two tables together while my mom and I ordered, and by the time we sat down with the food Antonio had joined us. Brittany and I shared a Subway Melt and then we were back in the truck, back on the road.

I was determined to not fall asleep.

Brittany was no help. She pulled her phone and earphones out, offering me a bud as she shuffled through songs; the shortness of the cord required my head hovered close, but I did my best to not allow any more contact than there already was.

I failed and, somehow, my head ended up back on her shoulder. She didn't push me away or show any sign of discomfort, so I figured it was better than looking like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. In spite of the nervousness caused by our proximity, being close to her always seemed to soothe me, and that, along with the words of Ed Sheeran's _Fall_ running through my ears, guided me back to sleep.

_And I will fall for you_

_And I will fall for you_

_And if I fall for you_

_Would you fall too?_

* * *

I woke up just in time to see the truck turning down the familiar road to my abuela's. My head was still on Brittany's shoulder but the earphone bud had fallen away and hanged down to her chest. I sat up slowly and rolled my head side to side, hoping to rid myself of the stiffness. Something fell from my cheek and Brittany turned to me with a smile as I lifted a hand, feeling the indent across the side of my face.

"I'm sorry I didn't move the cord," she said.

"Huh?" I replied, just before I realized the cord from her earphones had stuck to my cheek. "It's okay."

"Are we close?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's just down this road."

After a nearly six hour drive we finally made it to Peoria, Illinois, and just a few minutes later, my abuela's front yard.

"Oh, bien, llegaís justo a tiempo para la cena," Abuela said, already out her front door before all of us could get out of the truck.

"Hey ma," Antonio greeted.

Antonio, my mom, Mikey and I took turns hugging my abuela; when I pulled back, I noticed Brittany smiling by my side.

"Abuela," I said, "Esta es Brittany. Brittany, mi abuela."

"And you remember Joe, right?" Mikey added, gesturing to Joe as they walked over.

"Sí, sí. It's nice to see you both," she said, nodding.

"And you, Mrs. V," Joe said with a smile.

"Entrad, podéis coger las maletas luego," Abuela insisted.

Antonio rolled his eyes, but my mom pushed him forward and we all shuffled into the house.

As everyone gathered in the dining room and sat around the table, I followed my abuela into the kitchen to help with dinner. It was mostly done, so I was just standing, waiting, while she started on the dishes. I glanced around the kitchen for a few moments before my gaze went to the dining room; I was surprised to meet bright blue eyes, but I stood straighter without hesitation. Brittany smiled.

"Santana." My eyes snapped to my right at the sound of my abuela's voice. "Coge los platos y pon la mesa," she instructed.

I nodded too late, her back already turned and hands busy with another task, and turned to grab plates from the middle cabinet. I took the ones in front of me - white Melmac plates with flowers and fruit on them - and then two more from above them. And then I looked down. I shut the cabinet door slowly as I examined the plate on top; it was white like all the others, but instead of flowers or fruit it had a mass of twisting lines labeled _city roads_ and the name _Mikey_ in the left corner. Curiously, I lifted his plate and there is was: my plate. Unlike Mikey, I had scribbled my name right in the middle so you couldn't miss it, and drew a little microphone beneath it.

"Mikey," my abuela called, startling me back to what I was supposed to be doing, "Ve a por otra silla de la sala de estar para tu hermana."

Just as I reached the table, Mikey got up, and instead of starting on the end I was at, I moved over to his empty seat and set his plate down, and then mine right next to it. I put down the rest of the plates, ending with Antonio, and then went back to the kitchen for silverware.

When my abuela started taking the food over to the table, I began to get drinks. I asked Brittany first, and after she answered she asked everyone else and then helped me pour and deliver them.

It wasn't until after the prayer, with everyone sitting and loading their plates with food, that I noticed. There was a moment where I stared down the the peach colored flowers on my plate, but then I looked over and Brittany was looking right back with a guilty, shy-like smile on her face. I glanced down to the stolen plate and she slowly let her spoonful of mashed potatoes fall; I trailed my eyes back up to hers and she finally let a giggle. I bit my lip, but it didn't stop my smile.

* * *

There were four bedrooms in my abuela's house: my abuela's room to the left and three others on the right side of the house. The first of the guest bedrooms was next to the dining room; it was the smallest of the rooms, but the only one with two beds, so Mikey and Joe agreed to share it. At the end of the hall were the other two and the bathroom; the room next to the bathroom was the one Brittany and I got, the one next to it for my mom and Antonio.

Everyone, excluding my mom and abuela, went back out to the truck to get our bags. With all of us carrying something, we managed to get all our things inside one trip and into our bedrooms. Brittany and I decided not to unpack right away, and when we saw everyone else back in the dining room, we figured they decided the same. So we sat around the dining table, some watching TV, some talking, and some doing a little of both.

"Abuela," I said, finally interrupting. "Brittany doesn't understand. Can you try talking in English a little more?"

I could see Antonio glaring at me from the corner of my eye, and I could see it in his eyes: _That's rude, Santana. _But after an hour, I couldn't ignore the fact that it was unfair to Brittany, making her sit there and not understand when we could easily make it so she could.

My abuela looked to Brittany, and for a minute, I regretted saying anything, but then-

"I'm sorry, Brittany," she said. "It's a habit."

Brittany nodded. "That's alright."

"Okay," Mikey said, to prevent silence. "Let's all go outside!" he continued, scooting his chair back and standing up.

"Outside?" Abuela questioned. "What for?"

"To show you something awesome," he answered.

I didn't move quickly at first, but then Brittany's pinky was tugging on mine; I let her drag me out the back door, and anyone that wasn't tall and blonde and perfectly blue-eyed was already forgotten.

Nonetheless, when everyone one was crowded on the back porch looking down at Mikey and Joe where they stood in the grass, my focus readjusted. I watched as Mikey and Joe both tied different colored glow sticks to shoelaces and then took a few steps away from each other.

"What is this, exactly?" Antonio asked.

Mikey and Joe both looked up, and, at the same time, said, "Poi."

"Poi?" Antonio repeated.

Mikey nodded, and then they started swinging.

"It's even better with fire," Mikey informed, spinning around.

Joe was the first to mess up, a shoelace catching on his arm; Mikey wasn't far behind with a blue glow stick smacking against his elbow.

"Okay, who's next?" Mikey asked. When nobody answered, he looked to me. "Come try, San."

I shook my head. "I'm good."

"It's easy," he urged, demonstrating. "You just have to swing them around."

"No."

"Santana." I looked to Brittany. "Let's go try."

It was impossible not to smile at her, but I continued to refuse.

"Please?"

"I don't feel like hitting myself in the face."

"You won't."

"I will."

She pouted.

"Britt..."

"Come down with me, at least?"

I ended up standing on the steps while Brittany stood between Mikey and Joe - at a safe distance, of course - and they swung their shoelaces, explaining to her how to do it right. After watching them closely, Brittany accepted the shoelaces from Joe.

She managed to do it for a total of five minutes before the laces caught. She looked proud, and so cute.

"I did it, San!" she squealed immediately.

"You did it," I agreed, grinning too widely.

She jumped over to me and held out the shoelaces. "Your turn." She didn't say anything more, just kept her eyes on mine, knowing that's all she needed.

Just as I reached out, though, my mom spoke. "Oh. Time to go inside."

The question was on the tip of my tongue when a raindrop hit my nose.

Everyone started going inside. Mikey and Joe jumped over the railing to the porch, and I turned to follow, but then-

Brittany pulled me back.

And she said nothing.

So I asked, "What?"

"It's raining."

"I know," I drawled. "That's why we're supposed to be going inside."

She smiled, pulled me closer. "Let's dance."

"Britt."

"San."

The door creaked shut behind me and the rain was feeling heavier.

"We're getting all wet," I said.

She only smiled while capturing both my hands. She pulled me farther from the porch and I grew tense with every step.

"You don't have to worry about anything," she assured. "It's just rain. And it's just me. "

We stopped and she watched me, waiting patiently. When her fingers started twisting around mine, I caved. She beamed at me and tugged me closer. I was curious when she didn't start jumping up and twirling us around, but I didn't say anything. It was different, though, and I couldn't stop myself from glancing back toward the house.

"'And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music,'" she said, prompting me to turn back. "Friedrich Nietzsche." I tried to avoid her gaze but she caught me - and smiled.

Directly after I felt her hands on my hips, I moved mine to her shoulders. The action was unsteady and I wanted to pull away again but Brittany smiled and slipped her hands to my back, pulling me flush against her.

"Do you hear the music, Santana Marie?" she whispered in my ear.

So that's how we danced: in the middle of the yard, in the middle of the rain, and I didn't even care that by the time we went inside I was shaking.

* * *

I tried to get Brittany to shower first, but she was insistent that I did. After I had my shower, I shuffled back to the dining room to say goodnight to everyone and tell Brittany it was her turn; she walked with me down the hall, opened our bedroom door for me, and then turned into the bathroom. I crawled onto my bed feeling cold and tired, so I didn't worry that, in just a few minutes, Brittany would be joining me.

Before I knew it, she was there. She opened the door slowly, peeking in with a soft smile. I was curled up on the left side of the bed, half of my face squished into a pillow, and I just stared at her from my spot; I smiled, and my cheeks grew warm, but I didn't move.

"Hey," she said, quietly making her way to the bed.

I let out a muffled "Hi" in return.

The bed dipped under her and I started to get nervous.

"I'm sorry I made you dance in the rain."

My face scrunched up, confused. "Why?" I wanted to add that she didn't make me, but my jaw didn't want to move any more than it had to.

She settled down on her back next to me, looking over with sad eyes. "Because... now you feel bad."

I made an attempt to shake my head, but my head just lightly pushed into the pillow. "S'not your fault."

"Are you sure?"

"Def-nitely."

She looked at me, to make sure, I think, before instructing, "Come up here."

"Hm?"

"Come lie up here with me," she said, more questioningly than before.

After a moment, I listened. The bed was fairly big, but I shuffled up prepared to lie close to her side. Even then, I was surprised to have her stop me, pull me down, lay my head on her chest and, not a second later, let her hand soothe down my back.

She let me relax into her before speaking again.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." I didn't even have the chance to question her before she added, "What you said earlier."

"I know," I agreed. It felt weird, talking against her chest. "I wanted to."

"It was alright, though. It's not bad just sitting and watching sometimes."

"Mm."

"Besides... I'm picking up on some Spanish."

I smiled at that, and I think she could tell - or maybe I was just so focused on the way her skin moved beneath mine that I figured she felt it, too. I wanted to say more, mainly because I wanted Brittany to say more, but I couldn't get my mouth to cooperate - even more so with my head against her. So I stayed mute, enjoying the feel of being so close.

I jolted a little and opened my eyes when I heard her voice again.

"Are you feeling any better?"

I was. I was extremely tired for some reason, but it was like the headache never existed. But I didn't answer right away; I focused on the lazy strokes on my back. I didn't want her to stop, I really didn't want to move, and I wasn't sure if she would want me to seeing as I felt better. (That was the reason we were lying like that - to make me feel better - right? Mission accomplished = time to move.)

"Sort of," I said, and she didn't make me move.

The silence sank in once more. Thereafter, unexpectedly, I felt her lips touch my forehead and my breath hitched.

Gradually, I tilted my head to see her. She kissed me and all I could do was breathe out and then rest my head on her chest.

* * *

I woke up in bed alone. (The night before flashed through my mind and I couldn't decide if it was real or not.)

I went to the bathroom first before making my way down the hall. Something fluttered in me when I saw Brittany smiling at me.

"Morning, Santana Marie," she greeted.

I took my seat next to her, returning, "Mornin' Britt."

"Nice to see another one up," Antonio said.

"How did you sleep?" Abuela asked.

I peeked over at Brittany. "Very good."

"We're going to the lake this afternoon," my mom informed. "You probably want to get ready before the boys get up."

I nodded, and then my attention was back to Brittany.

"Hey, Britt."

"Hi," she said with a smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, berating myself for being an idiot.

"I'll get you some breakfast." I watched her as she got up from the table, grabbed the almost empty glass in front of my abuela and walked into the kitchen.

She returned with a plate of bacon and eggs for me and a glass of water for my abuela.

* * *

With the addition of my abuela, my mom had to move to the back seat. This left us yet another seat short, and Brittany and I could no longer squeeze together in the middle.

"Santana, just sit on Brittany's lap," my mom concluded. "I'm sure she doesn't mind; do you, dear?"

I glanced back to Brittany and she moved her hands away from her lap. "I don't mind."

"See, there you are," my mom said. I stood up as much as you can in the back of a truck and started to shuffle over. I didn't get far before I felt a shove from behind and I fell onto Brittany's lap.

It had been a long time since we had made a trip to the lake, and the last time I remembered being there was when I was about seven. Mikey and I were the only ones in the water, having water fights with the guns on our dolphin floaties.

"Can you carry this?"

I blinked. Once I looked over I noticed Antonio standing at the back of the truck, holding out a folding chair. I took it from him and walked across the sand to the tree my mom and Abuela were standing under.

"Go have fun, mija," my mom said, and only then did I realize the others were already jumping into the water.

I walked over the the edge of the water, looking out, watching Brittany dunk her head under.

"Race out to the docks," Mikey called, smoothing his hair back.

"Wait!" Brittany objected. "Get in the water, Santana Marie!"

Mikey busted out laughing. "Yeah, _Santana Marie_, get in the water!"

I shot him a glare, but he just smacked the water and yelled, "Come on!" in unison with Brittany and Joe.

Because of Brittany, I listened. I slipped out of my shorts, throwing them back towards the chairs, and tread into the water. When I made it out to Brittany, Joe yelled, "To the docks!" and they took off. Brittany did merely three strokes before she rushed back, tugged me forward, and made me swim out with her.

I might have been good at running, but I was not so good at swimming. In addition to Brittany having to go back for me, that put us only half way out before Mikey and Joe were on their way back, with Mikey in the lead. I could tell Brittany was holding back, because when I finally made it to the edge of the docks, she was right there with me.

It was just like that time when we first met and she went up the playplace steps with me.

(She was always right there next to me.)

I grabbed onto the dock and looked toward the shore just in time to see Joe beat Mikey back to shallow water.

"I coulda smoked 'em both," Brittany said.

I looked sideways with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" she repeated, observing me.

I had to avert my eyes before I mumbled, "I held you back."

"Put your other hand up here," she instructed, patting the boards of the dock.

"What?"

"Just do it."

I pulled my other hand out of the water and nearly had it placed on the dock when a squeak was forced out of me; my palm smacked against the wood as I was pushed up. I looked upon the water with wide eyes and Brittany popped up. She whipped her hair back out of her face and revealed a goofy smile.

"What was that for?"

She grabbed the dock on either side of me and pulled herself closer. She shrugged.

I let out a strangled laugh. Her eyes didn't stray as she moved closer, closer, closer, until her touch caused me to shiver. With grace that always did but shouldn't have surprised me, Brittany launched herself up out of the water and bolstered herself in front of me.

She smiled her stupidly perfect smile at me and then, without warning, her lips were on my cheek.

I remained stuck when she splashed back into the water. By the time by eyes focused, she was already swimming back.

"Britt!" I complained. "You're cheating!"

I dropped back into the water.

* * *

I was even more anxious getting in bed with Brittany for the second time. She was there before me this time, which didn't help at all. I made it to the edge of the bed before I made a fool of myself. I stood there staring, my eyes practically screaming fear.

She acted like she didn't notice, or didn't care, and asked me to turn out the light before I got in bed. I jumped to do so, but my movements turned slow and stiff as I lay on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, I could hear nothing but my own breathing.

"Santana Marie?"

I rolled my head to the side, but I could barely make out her face. "Yeah, BrittBritt?"

"Can we be closer?"

"I-"

"Maybe you could lie on my chest again?"

I heard her arm move across the space before I felt her hand against mine. I helped her connect our pinky's and moved onto my knees, only realizing I was hovering at her side when I glanced down. I felt her eyes more than I could see them, but they still trapped me; I was beginning to think that I didn't really want to look away.

And for the first time, I kissed her.

(Her gasp gave me chills.)

I pulled back carefully but she followed, and I swear my heart was trying to break free. Everything started happening faster, I was kissing harder, and I somehow ended up in her lap. Even so, out of nowhere, her hand rested on my cheek and she pulled away.

I could feel the panic begin to stir, but then Brittany kissed my nose and dipped back down to my lips, making everything inside me immediately settle.

I couldn't get enough of her perfect, slow kisses.

* * *

"Oh, bien, llegaís justo a tiempo para la cena," = Oh, good, you made it just in time for dinner

esta es Brittany" = this is Brittany

"Entrad, podéis coger las maletas luego," = Come on inside, you can get your bags later

"Coge los platos y pon la mesa," = Get the plates and set the table

"Ve a por otra silla de la sala de estar para tu hermana." = Go get another chair from the living room for your sister

* * *

**Thank you all for reading**/**reviewing**


	11. The Friends We Kiss

I opened my eyes and everything was blurry, so I closed them. I heard a giggle and before I could make a second attempt, I felt it.

I blinked my eyes rapidly until the image was clear, and then I watched as Brittany leaned down; I stopped breathing when I felt her lips again.

She giggled as I stared at her.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I tried, but the words didn't come out.

She laughed again as she moved to my side, a delighted smile on her face.

"Breakfast is ready," she said, her fingers trailing down my arm. "I didn't wanna have to wake you, but I don't want the food to get cold and Antonio said we're leaving soon anyway."

"What time is it?"

"About 7:30."

"Hm," I hummed, more at the tingle in my arm than her words. "Mikey's already up?"

"He's in the shower, I think."

I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. "I don't wanna get up."

"I know. But there's food."

I tried to force myself to get up - not only for the food, but for Brittany - but then her hand moved. Her fingers were gone and my frown formed. I opened my eyes and tilted my head to look at her. She smiled at me and all I wanted to do was get her to lie down with me, but.

I pushed myself up and she said, "I'll let you get dressed." And she moved so quick that I barely registered she had kissed my cheek before she was out the door.

I lifted my hand to the side of my face and the door clicked shut.

* * *

I stepped out of my room as Mikey stepped out of the bathroom; he continued like he didn't see me until he bumped into my side.

"Hey," he said, as if I'd been the one to bump into him.

I just pushed him toward the wall. The hall is so small he simply rocked over so his shoulder touched the wall and then rocked back into me; I stepped into the wall and let him continue ahead of me. Just as he reached the end of the hall, he tugged the towel from his head, twisted around and threw it at me.

I stopped by the table and pulled the towel away from my face. He was already sitting with everyone else, but I threw the towel back at him before noticing Brittany.

"It's nice of you to join us," Antonio said.

"Yes, you two need to enjoy this breakfast Brittany and I made before you get back on the road," Abuela said.

I sat down and looked to Brittany, who smiled.

* * *

Brittany and I helped carry everyone's bags out to the truck before getting in the back. I made sure we were the first ones in so we could claim the window seat; Joe didn't seem too upset to be sitting in the middle.

We had just pulled out onto the highway when I decided to speak.

"You helped my abuela cook?"

"Yeah, it was fun."

"Fun?" I asked. I knew Abuela was an amazing woman, I had always respected her, but she could be intimidating and... harsh.

"Yeah, she's a really good cook and I didn't even mess anything up!"

I smiled at her and she slipped her hand next to mine. Her palm felt warm, and I prepared myself for letting her intertwine her fingers with mine, but then she brushed her fingers up my palm and took my pinky in hers. When she met my eyes and smiled back, I leaned my head on her shoulder.

"She taught me how to cook," I told her.

"Yeah?" she asked. I hummed against her. "She's a good teacher, I think. And she's nice to talk to."

"You talked to her?"

"Uh-huh," she laughed. "She started talking about Baby, and how Antonio makes fun of her weight when he doesn't think she's listening, and I told her about Lord Tubbington."

"I think Tubbs is bigger."

"Maybe." Her shoulder lifted in an almost shrug. "Lord T's never been great with dogs - they bullied him as a kitten - but I told her I think he and Baby could be friends."

I smiled. It was one of those moments where I would usually worry due to lack of something to say, but I knew she understood, so we were silent for a moment.

"We should cook together sometime," she said. "I still don't know much, but I know you're good."

I agreed, eager for sometime, when it would be just me and her, together and ready to cook.

(And those were the two best things, really: Brittany and food.)

* * *

Out of habit, the first thing I did was reach for my phone.

There was not a good morning text.

Instead: _Morning __without __you __is __a __dwindled __dawn__ - __emily __dickinson_.

It wasn't until my fourth read-over that I noticed something else; her name in my phone had been changed to _BrittBritt_. I felt the indispensable need to text back - _but__what__?_ I knew I wanted to give her something - everything, maybe - and not even solely because it felt like she was always giving to me. Even the tiniest thought of her would make my heart pull tight in the best way possible; it was a weird feeling, but I felt so good, so loved, and I wanted to give her at least a little of that in return.

But I knew I couldn't give her everything I wanted.

I knew I couldn't give her anything.

**Me****: **_Hey__, __BrittBritt_

There was a response before I could even sit up.

* * *

It was starting to get hard for me. Less than 24 hours, and it was already too long to be without her.

The texting had stopped after a few hours. I knew she didn't mind; I knew I did. I wanted to talk to her - more so _be _with her - but I also knew I didn't want to be an annoyance. _I __like __listening __to __whatever __you __have __to __say__, __whenever __you __want __to __say __it_, she'd tell me; but there was always that chance.

I turned on the TV, I turned on my laptop. I watched as chefs cooked on _Chopped_, I spent some time checking my email, which was compiled of junk and junk, and then killed time on the internet while glancing at the TV. And then my mom was there, convincing me my room needed a cleaning.

It wasn't dirty really, just slightly messy. I had nothing better to do, though, so I pulled out the vacuum.

Once I was satisfied with my vacuum job, I started on my bed.

I yanked the comforter away and something went flying; it landed on the middle of my bed.

I dropped the cover to my feet and reached for it. I thought it was a simple piece of paper, but then I turned it around.

"_I __want __to __know __you__. __You __seem __like __someone __worth __knowing__. __Every __day __I __feel __like __I__'__m __surrounded __by __people __with __hard __edges __and __sour __faces __but __I __get __the __sense __that __you__'__re __different__. __Too __often __people __seem __to __think __that __they __have __the __answers __to __everything__. __Their __faces __are __trapped __in __permascowls __and __they __can__'__t __be __bothered __with __anything __besides __their __own __narcissism__. __You __aren__'__t __like __that__. __You __still __ask __questions__. __You__'__re __still __looking __for __the __answers__."_

_-__Ryan __O__'__Connell_

I allowed myself time to read it over a few good times like I always did, because I just couldn't help it. And then I started to wonder when Brittany had put it there; it was crumpled up, so it had to have been there for a while, but I had never seen it before so I knew it wasn't from my pile.

I didn't know, and even though I wanted to, all I could do was smile.

I threw the comforter back onto my bed and texted Brittany. I didn't mention my discovery, but I did smooth it out and add it to the pile.

And then around midnight, I got a text that wasn't from Brittany.

**Artie****: **_Redo __camping __u __in__?_

I asked Brittany if she was going.

**BrittBritt****:** _Unless __you __wanna __do __something __else__?_

**Me****: **_Do __you __have __a __tent__?_

I pictured her smile as I told Artie I would go.

**BrittBritt****:** _Yes__! __You __wanna __come __over __and __help__?_

**Me****: **_Okay_

* * *

I woke up just after ten the next morning. Usually, I would just turn over - maybe check my phone - and go back to sleep. But, instead, I grabbed my phone and rolled out of bed.

I was going to see Brittany.

I quickly picked out some clothes and headed for the bathroom. There were two texts from Brittany.

_Morning __Santana __Marie_

_Come __over __whenever __you __want__! __I __know __it __wont __be __too __early_

I wasted no time. I took my shower, put on my clothes, and before I knew it I was telling my mom I was leaving as I made my way out the door.

I may have sped on the way to Brittany's house.

It was worth it when I was greeted by her smile at the front door.

"My dad pretty much found all our camping stuff and threw it in my room," she began, latching onto my hand and pulling me toward her room. "So we just have to decide what we want to use."

"Okay," I said. And then we were in her room. She closed the door, spun to face me, and suddenly my back was against the door and she was kissing me.

My eyes were closed, I was frozen.

"Hey," she breathed. My eyes opened slowly, I bit my lip, and then I was smiling at her.

When she turned away, I took a look around her room. It was only my second time there, and it felt like my first; last time - the first time I was actually in her room - it was late, and dark, and I didn't think much about where I was.

The TV, just to the right of the door, and her small bed in front of it were the only things I really remembered. The closet doors on the far wall, the almost empty desk against the other, and the four level cat stand her cat was perched upon were all new to me. Her walls were scattered with pictures and posters, and despite not being able to make out what was on most of them because she was directing my attention to the mess of camping supplies on her floor, I knew I liked the room.

"We have like four tents, but I think we can share one - if you want?"

"Oh," is was what I said. She tilted her head to the side in her adorable questioning way while I thought about it. _We_ meant us, and sharing a tent meant sharing space, and being close, which, especially after sharing at Abuela's, was something I definitely wanted. "Yes."

She giggled, moving to the floor and pulling at what looked like the tents before looking up to me. I sat on the other side of the pile.

"This one's huge," she said, pushing away the blue one as if ruling it out. "If we took it everyone would probably try to sneak in with us because of it's awesomeness." I was suddenly sharing her smile, glad she had decided we didn't want to share with anyone else.

She moved her hand to the pink bag. "It's not like I hate Hello Kitty or anything, but this one is my sisters and it's tiny. I'm sure we don't need that much space, but I think we'd be cramped." She shrugged, pushing it toward the blue one. There was two left between us: a red and a yellow; Brittany reached out, putting a hand on each one. "These two are both good."

"Which one do we want?" I asked.

"You decide."

"Um." I was never big on decision making. "Help me?"

"I like them both, really," she said. "But... the red one has this thing at the top where you can unzip it to look at the stars."

"Red one then?"

She pushed the yellow bag toward the others and we focused on all the other camping supplies laid before us.

* * *

I was excited for camping.

Brittany and I spent half our afternoon talking about it; I was getting to spend so much time with her, how could I not be happy?

I smiled my way through the drive, through paying the camping free, through the final feet between us and the end of the beach.

We slowed when we reached our camping spot, and I parked in the best place I could to not get stuck in the sand. I grabbed our tent and a sleeping bag; Brittany our pillows and the other sleeping bag. We walked our way into the mess of tents being put up, into our group of friends.

Artie was the first to spot us. It was when he walked up, eyes set on Brittany, that my smile wavered. He barely offered me a _Hey__, __Santana__!_ before he took her from me, and I was disappointed that she left. I knew it was foolish to be so clingy over her, but I couldn't help it.

Mike swooped in before I could even watch her disappear, all smiles and excitement.

I stood stiff as he gave me a hug. I tried to think about the last time we hung out, and how we used to be best friends, and I tried to relax.

"You look awesome!" he said, then, "Is that your tent?" I nodded slowly, wanting to be happy to see him, but wanting Brittany back more. "Great; I saved you the spot next to Tina and I."

He wasted no time freeing my hands of the red and black bag before he led me to the right of the to-be _U_of tents. It was much bigger than our camping trips before, which only intensified my thoughts about how much everything had changed; Mike had a girlfriend, the group had grown, and I didn't really belong.

Mike dropped Brittany's tent in the empty space next to a blue and yellow tent I supposed was his before telling me, "One sec," and poking his head inside said tent.

I caught, "Everyone's here," and then he was smiling and walking back over. Just as he began to ask if I wanted helped with my tent, someone called my name.

"Hey, Santana!" I was surprised to see Sam running over to me. In the time since moving back, I hadn't spoken to him much, which, considering I didn't before either, wasn't unusual. "Brittany told me to find you; she said the tent was in your car?"

I was confused, but I told him it wasn't locked. He smiled his huge-lipped smile and thanked me before running off. I turned back to Mike, and a second later-

"There you are!"

Brittany ran up to me with a smile; I smiled back, just a little bit.

"Hey, Brittany," Mike said.

"Hey," she replied with a little wave.

"I was just gonna help Santana put your tent up."

Brittany glanced to me, then shook her head. "That's alright. I think we've got it."

"You sure?" he asked.

She started nodding before she said, "Yup."

"Okay, I'll catch you in a bit then." He shot us both a smile before jogging off.

She was looking at me again.

"What's wrong?"

I frowned at her but said, "Nothing."

"I'm sorry about running off," she said, like she knew. "I thought you were following, and by the time I realized you weren't, Artie had me at the other end of the tents. He thought maybe we could share a tent, but I explained to him I was sharing with you, so." She shrugged.

"You don't have to," I said, trying not to show how much I wanted her to.

"I want to," she said quickly.

I nodded, feeling somehow worse than before.

"Did Sam find you yet?" I nodded again. "He didn't have his own tent, so I brought the yellow one for him to borrow." Another nod.

"San," she said, taking my hand. I felt her eyes on me, but I knew if I caught them I would be stuck. When she pulled on my arm, I was too surprised to hold myself back. She leant forward, kissed my cheek, and barely pulled back. "They're our friends," she said. "Try to remember that, okay? You don't have to feel uncomfortable."

I said nothing, but when I heard a voice I jumped.

"Thanks for the tent, Britt."

I stared at Sam, pulling my hand away from Brittany's.

"No problem," Brittany said, glancing at me. Sam smiled and then pointed at his spot across from ours, explaining he was going to set up and that we should do the same.

Brittany touched my arm and said, "Ready to set it up?"

I gave a nod; she gave a half smile and moved to grab the tent.

Putting up a tent with Brittany turned out to be extremely entertaining, even if it did involved a lot of laughing at my expense, and significantly improved my mood.

I helped double check the stakes before taking our sleeping bags and pillows and stepping inside. After I had everything laid out I sat on the sleeping bag on the right; when Brittany stepped in I wondered why it took her so long.

And then she handed me a Dr Pepper and sat in front of me with her legs crossed. We opened our cans at the same time and then she took a sip and slowly looked up at me.

She smiled. I barely noticed her eyes drop to my lips before she asked, "Are you feeling better and excited again?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm sorry."

She put her can down, lifted up to her knees, and leaned forward.

"Hey." My head snapped over to see Artie sticking his head through our door; Brittany dropped back onto her legs. "Everybody's got their tent up and we're starting the fire."

Brittany smiled at him. "We'll be there in a second." He lingered like he was waiting for us, but when Brittany didn't move he backed out.

She leaned in again, past my lips, to my ear. "'Love who you are. Love how you are. You are beautiful,'" she spoke softly. "I Wrote This For You: The Porcelain." She shifted back, picked up her can and crawled out of the tent.

I heard the tent zip open and watched the flap slowly fall; I smiled at Brittany's lively face and offered hand. "Let's go have some fun," she said. She helped me step out of the tent and zipped our door closed.

She stood up next to me and slipped her pinky around mine before leading me to the center, where the fire would be.

Everyone was moving around, seeming to already have a job. Mike, Artie, and Blaine were scavenging for firewood; Puck, Sam, and Karofsky were on a search for rocks; Mercedes and Tina were dealing with the food; Quinn, Rachel, and Kurt were arranging everything; and I am almost certain Finn didn't know what he was doing. I prepared myself to stand there, completely out of place, and watch as everyone moved with purpose while I did nothing. I shouldn't have been surprised when Brittany squeezed my pinky and pulled me over to Quinn, asking what needed to be done.

* * *

Finn attempted to start a fire by himself - trying to impress Rachel - and we all sat and watched for nearly five minutes before Brittany lit a piece of paper and sneaked it under the sticks; he huffed and glared while everyone else laughed.

It was dark by then, and time to really start our night.

Puck dug into the cooler and passed out the beer, Quinn the hot dogs, Mercedes the buns, and Rachel the metal skewers after setting out the condiments. I left the beer in the sand in favor of finishing my Dr Pepper.

By the time we made it to the s'mores, half of the group - led by Rachel - was singing.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile when Brittany joined in. I only took my eyes away from her when my marshmallow caught on fire; I blew it out, ready to pair it with my chocolate and graham crackers, but then Brittany leaned over and ate it right off my skewer. I stared at her with my mouth agape and she just smiled while allowing her eyes to shift to Mike, the first one to jump up and dance.

Berry sang louder, and there were more than a few cheers when Mike tugged his shirt over his head, but Brittany stole my attention when she placed a perfectly burnt marshmallow on my still unfinished s'more before jumping up. Mike grabbed her hand and pulled her over; my s'more was forgotten when a second later Brittany, too, stripped free of her shirt.

As soon as Mike moved to Tina and got her to dance, Brittany's eyes shifted to me. My eyes went wide and I shook my head adamantly, but she tried anyway; she got me on my feet but I only stood there as she danced. In the middle of willing myself to move with her, Sam stepped in. She danced with him, but stayed close; she was still trying to get me to dance.

When things began to settle down, I tried to convince Brittany to put her shirt back on. She pouted and I gave up.

And then came my most hated game. My heart raced a little when I thought about it, because of what happened last time, but I didn't hate it yet. By the end of the game, though, I would never want to play again.

"Truth or dare?" Puck asked, smirk set in place.

"Dare," Brittany said instantly.

"I dare you to kiss anyone here you have kissed before." It was a typical Puck dare, he always wanted to see people making out, but my heart thudded in my chest. Brittany's smile changed and she glanced my way. I didn't know what to do, so I avoided her eyes.

And then she moved to her right, away from me.

My stomach dropped farther the closer she got, and my body felt ready to collapse when Sam gave her a shy smile and her lips touched his. It was quick, and before I knew it, before anyone could say anything, she was moving toward me. Her hand touched my shoulder and then she kissed me. I didn't know what was worse: that she kissed Sam, or that she kissed me after; and I couldn't tell if I wanted to steal her away and erase any trace of him or push her off.

It was more than her kiss with Sam, but still chaste. She pulled away with a smile and then settled in her spot next to me.

And I sat there.

And the game continued.

* * *

It felt like that night all over again, except it was worse.

As soon as the game was over, and people were moving around again, I walked away from Brittany. I found Mike and stuck by his side; after a while, I could tell Tina was getting annoyed with me, but I couldn't care enough to leave. Artie was with Brittany, and Quinn was talking to Rachel - who I caught looking my way a few times - and I didn't want to be around anyone else.

Eventually, though, Tina pulled Mike into a kiss and forced me to leave. I shuffled away until I was next to Mercedes, who was talking to Kurt; Blaine, who was standing next to him, was talking to Karofsky and Puck. My arms found their way across my chest as I glanced around, making sure Brittany was far enough away and wishing I wasn't there.

Just a few minutes later, Puck was the first, and only, to notice me. He broke from his conversation and made his way closer to me. He was close to the last person I wanted to talk to, but he was the one who talked.

"S'up?"

"Nothing."

"You look hot."

I glared at him; he laughed.

"What's up with you never wanting to talk to me?" he asked. It almost sounded like a genuine question, but then, when I didn't answer, "We could go make out."

"Fuck you," I growled, not in the mood to deal with him.

He only smirked and said, "Sure."

I scoffed and walked away.

* * *

I didn't care that I was lying in the dirt.

All I cared was that I was alone. Even though all I could think about was her.

I had finally found a _place _like I'd always wanted. I felt like I should hate it, though, because it was _our _place; but I couldn't.

So there I was, in the middle of the night, in the dirt.

It was hard to understand how things could go from so good to so bad; how your favorite person could make you so happy, and then so sad.

My eyes were filled with tears, blurring the sky above me, but I refused to let them fall.

I don't know how long I lay there.

I don't know how many times I saw the kiss in my head, causing the tears to push harder.

I don't know how many times I questioned everything.

I don't know how many times I wished I was just gone, or when the hate started to sink in.

I don't know when she got there.

I didn't even know that I had fallen asleep until she was waking me up.

She was sitting there by my side, her hand brushing my hair back. I was so confused, so upset, and I felt like I should yell, or push her away; but I knew I couldn't deny her touch.

"Hey," she said once I got my eyes to stay open. Her fingers tucked some hair behind my ear, drifted down my jaw, fell to her lap. "Can I take you home?"

"No."

She didn't look surprised. She didn't even say anything, she just nodded. She tried to catch my eyes, but I looked away; she got up and walked away.

Just like that.

I was so mad at her.

_How __can __you __just __leave __me__?_ I thought. _Fuck_, I wanted to scream. _Fuck __you__!_

I wanted to hit someone, and I'm pretty sure it was me. I dug my fingers into my shirt instead, and a tear slipped out.

And then there were footsteps.

She was back.

When she didn't say anything, I looked over; she had blankets in her arms, and she was trying to spread one out on the ground without dropping the other. I thought about helping her, I almost smiled, but my body didn't move.

She sat on the blanket, leaving a space between us, and then leaned over to grab my hand. I stared at her blankly, and, after a few insistent tugs, let her guide me onto the blanket. I settled and she lay in front of me.

"Why are you here, Santana Marie?"

I didn't know, really, and I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that I was upset.

"You kissed Sam," is what slipped out.

She nodded. I didn't think she was going to say anything, but then, "I didn't want to. But it was just a dare, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

"But you kissed him, and then..." I didn't want to say it, because we didn't talk about it; it just happened. Even in that moment, I didn't want to say anything to make it stop.

"Should I have kissed you first?" she asked, making my heart jump. "I just wanted to do it quick so I could kiss you-"

"You've done it before."

"No I- oh." She paused. "It was when I first moved here. Sam and I went on a few dates, but it wasn't right, so we're just friends now."

_Is __this __right__? _I thought, but grumbled, "He looked happy about it."

Brittany laughed. "No he wasn't." I was confused, so she explained, "He's been trying to get Mercedes to go out with him. Don't tell anyone."

"Oh," I said, and she smiled.

While I was being trapped by her eyes, she moved closer. Her hand touched the side of my face gently, her thumb ran across my bottom lip, and then she was whispering, "Let me kiss you."

And I let her.

* * *

I didn't pay much attention to the time, but I think it was around four when we left. Brittany asked if I wanted to go home, or anywhere else, but I told her we should just go back to the lake; I didn't want to ruin the camping trip for her anymore than I already had.

We decided to get food before we left. Sadly, though, we had to leave in separate cars because, as it turns out, Brittany "borrowed" Quinn's car. We decided not to tell her about it.

Being in Lima, there was next to nothing open, so we ended up at the Walmart deli. It wasn't so bad, not with Brittany by my side.

* * *

We were back to the lake just after five. No one was up, of course, or not out of their tents anyway - Brittany was sure she heard some voices - and we were tired, so we took the food to our tent.

Brittany unzipped the top of the tent so we could see the sky while I secured the food in the corner. As soon as I crawled into my sleeping bag, and Brittany in hers, my eyes began to droop. I wanted to sleep, so bad, but I couldn't stop wanting to look at her.

We were close, just the material of our sleeping bags and an almost non-existent gap separating us, and we just smiled at each other while I fought sleep. I felt myself drift in and out of consciousness, but every time I opened my eyes she was there with a smile.

And then my eyes snapped open and she wasn't; she was behind me. I felt her heat, I felt her chest against my back; my heart was pounding as her arm slipped over my side.

"Is this okay?"

The breath against my ear left my throat dry and I could only nod.

"G'night, Santana Marie."

* * *

I woke up a few hours later to the most perfect smile and a cup of coffee.

Brittany told me how she warmed it over the fire, and I wished I could have seen it.

Somehow, we ended up making out; somehow, Brittany ended up on top of me; and somehow, my coffee turned cold. When we left the tent, it was only so that she could heat up my coffee.

Most everyone - including Sam - was up, eating the food Brittany and I got. And yeah, I told her it was fine, not a big deal; but apparently she caught on to my not so subtle way of keeping her the safe distance of at least 5 feet away from Sam at all times.


	12. In the Middle Of Nowhere

I listened to the low, insistent buzzing, and I listened as it turned into music; I lay half asleep, listening, until I belatedly comprehended what it was.

My eyes snapped open and I lifted up on my elbow, reaching across the bed for my phone.

"Hello?" I grumbled, dropping back into my covers.

"Hey there, sleepy head," came Brittany's voice. "You need to get up."

"Huh?"

Brittany giggled, and then said, "I'll be over in a little while. Get up; don't go back to sleep."

"Britt—" she hung up.

I lowered my phone away from my ear, sighing to myself as I looked at it. Even though I knew what it was, I opened the waiting texts.

**BrittBritt: **_Morning!_

_Up yet?_

I smiled, and I got out of bed.

* * *

After getting out of the shower, I went downstairs to the office. My mom and Antonio greeted me, and for the next ten minutes I just sat and listened to them talk; I was anxious to see Brittany and I didn't know what else to do to pass the time.

When I heard a knock on the door, I practically jumped out of my seat.

"Hey," Brittany said, smiling and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Hey," I said back, trying to constrain my smile.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"We're going somewhere?"

"Uh-huh," she replied.

"Oh, um, yeah," I agreed dumbly.

She bit her lip, said, "Get your shoes. I'll wait out here."

I nodded, but made no effort to move; she giggled and turned to walk away. I jogged back into the office, answering, "It's Brittany," and hollering, "I'm leaving now, bye!" once my shoes were on.

I cautiously walked up to the truck parked in my driveway. Brittany was inside; she leaned over and opened the passenger door for me. She leaned back slowly as I got in, but when I closed the door I noticed she was still close.

Before I could even fully turn to face her, she was even closer. She kissed my cheek and then pulled back, saying, "Buckle up."

* * *

Brittany grinned from behind the wheel, still offering no explanation.

When we turned onto the highway, I finally asked, "What are we doing?"

She smiled bigger. "I thought we could do something today."

I smiled back curiously. "Like what?"

"Like... a surprise," she said. "I even invited Quinn."

I kept the _oh _to myself, because she looked so excited, and just looked at her. It wasn't like I was unhappy to be hanging out with friends, but I liked the thought of it just being the two of us. Everything was so good with Brittany; I didn't want to mess that up, and adding people often did.

"It'll be so fun," she promised. "And I've already planned it all out."

* * *

We made it to Quinn's house expeditiously. I shouldn't have been surprised to see Rachel Berry there; Quinn was with her constantly.

They were already outside, so we didn't get out of the truck. Rather than get in with us, they got in Quinn's car and followed us out of town.

Brittany still wouldn't tell me anything.

"Where are we going?" I asked, and she told me nothing.

"What are we doing?" I asked, and she told me nothing.

"How long is the drive?" I asked, and she returned, "Does it matter?"

Frustrated, I inquired, "Why won't you tell me anything?"

She glanced at me, said, "'The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.' Joseph Campbell."

And I smiled at her big, because I couldn't help doing so when she would recite a quote.

"Why do you have this truck?" I tried.

"My dad and I switched for the day."

* * *

It was after a forty-minute drive that we started to low. Brittany turned right down a road and I looked out the window. I didn't see much, but.

"Britt..."

The truck came to a stop to the left of the road. Brittany cut the engine. "We're here."

I watched Quinn park on the other side, and then looked forward to the sign above the blocked entrance. There were only three letters hanging on the withering sign: A in the middle and P and k at the end.

My head whipped around to the sound of Brittany's door opening, but I couldn't get a syllable out before she was closing it. My eyes followed her as she walked around the front of the truck, waved to Quinn and Rachel getting out of the car, and then stopped by my door. She opened it slowly and smiled at me.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What?"

"C'mon," she said, putting a hand on my knee.

"You're a serial killer, aren't you?" I said. "You brought me out here to the middle of nowhere so you could kill me."

Brittany's face went blank. "Of course," she said. "Now c'mon, don't ruin the plan."

"What now, Britt?" Quinn interrupted. Brittany glanced back, said, "One sec."

"So," her hand slid down to the back of my leg, "do I have to carry you?"

"Don't you dare." Her grip tightened, other hand left the door. "Brittany," I warned.

Her grin was back as she tugged me forward, grabbed my other leg. I squealed as she lifted me from the passenger seat. A laugh ripped itself from my throat as she twisted us around, pushed the door closed with her hip.

"What are you guys doing?"

We both looked over to Quinn; my eyes slid to Rachel, who had a weird smile on her lips.

"Put me down," I instructed. Brittany looked at me, lowered me to the ground.

Rachel was still watching me, but she finally asked, "What are we doing here, exactly?"

"'We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventure that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open,'" Brittany said, "Jawaharlal Nehru."

I struggled to hold the smile back, but I couldn't stop the laugh at the name. Brittany glanced at me, smiled, and giggled.

Rachel looked at Brittany and her lips twitched, but she said nothing; Quinn looked at her and said, "Okay?"

Brittany cleared her throat. "Are we ready to go in?"

Rachel scanned the area skeptically. "Are you sure about this, Brittany? It says no trespassing, and we could get in a lot of—"

"It's okay, Rachel," Brittany interrupted.

"I doubt anyone comes out her anyway, Rach," Quinn said.

Brittany left my side and sauntered to the gate. She pushed at it, creating a gap large enough to slip through. Quinn and Rachel stepped over; at Brittany's instruction, Quinn guided Rachel through before following. They strolled a few feet ahead and Brittany looked over to me, tilting her head.

I tread toward her slowly, only looking away to face the fence. Brittany put a hand on my back lightly as I squeezed through. I turned back as she drifted past the fence; we were close, and she smiled. I smiled shyly and stepped back.

She captured my pinky as we advanced into the amusement park.

"This place isn't open, is it?" I asked.

"Nope," she said.

"I don't know if this is better or worse...," I mumbled.

* * *

The first thing we saw was a little train track kiddy ride. There were three carts still attached to the rails, one on the far end by itself and the other two together on the right; there was a third on the front, half on and half off; and a fourth completely detached, face-down in the middle.

The next was a bumper cars shack. All of the fences were rusty, but still standing, and the roof was mostly there apart from a few missing tiles. There were two cars on their sides and only one sitting right. There was a seat in the middle, cushion filthy and torn, and plants growing through the cracks in the floor.

By the time we made it to a small elevated roller coaster track surrounded by bushes and trees, Rachel spoke up. "What is the point of looking at all of this discarded debris, again?" she said.

I looked to Brittany and noticed for the first time that she held a camera. "It's all part of the adventure," she said, snapping a picture of the old, red track.

"Right, but aren't there more elegant and—Brittany!" Brittany whirled in her spot atop the metal; she laughed at the look on Rachel's face and then she regarded me.

Rachel was muttering to herself—or Quinn—and I pushed through the brush toward Brittany. She offered her hand, then stepped back when I took it and helped me up.

"We're not waiting for you!" Brittany announced, stepping forward and pulling her hand away until her pinky hooked around mine. I glanced back at Quinn tugging Rachel forward; Brittany giggled and hurried her steps.

"There _has _to be a safer way to go about this," Rachel groused, wobbling along as Brittany and I followed the curve around a tree.

We reached a dip before a steep incline and Brittany hopped off; in the distance above her head I spotted a ferris wheel. Before I could get a good look, though, I felt a tap on my foot. Brittany looked up at me, asked, "Need help?"

But she had the camera in her hand—pointed up at me. I spun around and her fingers clamped around my ankle. "Careful," she said, and I told her no pictures. Her thumb dipped under the leg of my pants and rubbed against my skin; I took it as an agreement.

She helped me down, and I didn't move when I was on the ground. I glanced back; Quinn and Rachel hadn't caught up.

"I can't take pictures of you?" Brittany asked.

I shook my head no.

After a moment, "Why not?"

"I don't like pictures," I said simply.

"Santana..."

Rachel's loud voice came into focus, followed by Quinn's. I slipped away from Brittany.

"Santana Marie!" she called, jogging after me. She grabbed my arm, camera help in the other, walking sideways just to my left. "Just one picture?"

I refused, but.

"Santana Marie," she said, and "Santana Marie," she repeated, and "Santana Marie," and "Santana Marie"; and it was too cute to be annoying.

I stopped and turned to her, rolling my eyes. "Fine," I laughed.

Her face brightened as she said, "Smile," and I couldn't help it. The camera went off, and then she jumped back to my side. She held the picture up in front of us; my eyes wandered over my own face.

And my stomach dropped.

"Delete it, please," I asked; her smile fell and she lowered the camera.

"We have to take pictures by the ferris wheel!" Quinn exclaimed, suddenly in front of us.

Brittany glanced at me, but my eyes were stuck on my feet. She reached for my pinky and led me behind Quinn and Rachel.

* * *

The ferris wheel was old, rusted, and enmeshed with vines. It had a certain appeal to it, perhaps more so than everything before.

Brittany, Quinn and Rachel took an abundance of pictures by it; and while Brittany aimed her glances at me again and again, none of them asked me to join.

Once they were done, however, Brittany waved me over and asked, "Anyone hungry?" She didn't wait for an answer before she maneuvered between two seats and lifted an ice chest out of the higher one.

She set it just in front and pulled back the top. We each got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a water bottle.

Brittany took me to one of the seats; Quinn and Rachel sat in the one in front of us, saying something about "special jelly."

"Is this safe?" I asked, listening as the metal creaked beneath us.

Brittany shrugged. "Probably not," she said, and then leaned into my shoulder. "But I won't let anything happen to you."

I mumbled a thanks and bit into my sandwich.

Not long after, I felt Brittany's hand against mine. I looked up at her, but she wasn't looking; I gazed down at our hands, and lifted my pinky over hers.

"The ferris wheel is my favorite," she said quietly.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," she said. "It was the first ride I ever went on, and I've been on one so many times, but it never gets old. I love lots of rides, but this is my favorite. And when you're at the top—so beautiful."

"I've only been on one a few times."

"Really?"

"Yeah; I don't get on many rides at all." She looked at me, waiting, so I continued: "I'm not a big fan of heights. And every time I get on a ferris wheel, I tell myself it'll be fine, because all you're doing is going up and then back down real slow—but then I get to the top and..."

"You panic."

I shrugged.

"Someday, I want to be on top with you."

* * *

We wandered across the grass and through and tunnel of trees into a group of buildings, half standing and full of graffiti. Brittany pulled a handful of sharpies out of nowhere and bounced to one of the semi-bare walls. She handed them out, saying, "Let's sign our names!"

She was the first to do so, somewhere near the top right, followed by Rachel who—for once—had no objections and instantaneously signed in the middle, a star attached to the end of her name. I saw Quinn eye the wall, but missed where she signed due to Brittany guiding me close to hers. She took my hand with the sharpie and put it on the wall; I signed just below _Brittany Pierce._

Brittany took my hand again, and I gulped before looking up. She smiled and slipped the sharpie from my grip. I smiled and tried to pull my hand back, but she caught my wrist; she slipped the sharie into my pocket with her other hand and then let go. Rachel came up beside us and I turned and went on a search for Quinn's name. I finally asked her and she pointed it out; it was on the far right, written neatly. When I looked back at Brittany, Rachel was smiling her weird smile, but I didn't get the chance to ask because Quinn was ushering Rachel forward and Brittany and I followed.

Quinn and Rachel laughed ahead of us, Rachel's obnoxious laugh mixed Quinn's softer one. I made out bits of their actual words, but it was nothing that made any sense. Brittany and I didn't talk; we walked close, deliberately brushing against each other, and I watched the scene in front of us: Quinn and Rachel having fun together, being close. I think she did, too—it was like we were watching a movie together.

I don't think until then I had fully realized that they—my friends—had changed, just like I had; not in the same ways, of course, but changed nonetheless. And as I allowed that to sink in, I also let myself accept that Rachel was my replacement. Even though it hurt, and it was Rachel Berry of all people, I couldn't complain—I had Brittany.

* * *

"Over here, guys!" Brittany burst out, halting everyone. Quinn and Rachel turned back and we walked to the building Brittany pointed out. It had an area out front with a small gate, tables, and a faded old looking Coca-cola sign.

The door was locked, but we managed to slip through a broken window. We stepped around all the glass inside and past the table among it. It slightly dark, but there was sufficient light provided by the windows and holes in the ceiling.

The inside was filled with more overturned tables, dirty tiles, trash, and walls covered in art. Brittany made her way back and jumped behind the counter. "Next!" she called, and I made my way over.

"How may I help you?" she asked sweetly.

"You losers," Quinn interrupted. "We're gonna keep walking."

Quinn and Rachel walked to the front door. Quinn unlocked it and held it open for Rachel. "Have a nice day!" Brittany shouted to them as they walked out.

I turned back to Brittany and glanced up to the half-menu above her head. "Well," I said, "since I've already had food, I'd like the best friends in the world, please."

"I'm sorry," Brittany replied, resting her elbows on the counter, "but it seems like you already have one of those."

I leaned closer, said, "Well I wish she'd come finish the tour of this creepy place with me."

Brittany jumped back. "It's not creepy!" she objected.

"Is too," I argued.

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too."

She leaned on the counter again and pointed a finger at me. "It. Is. Not. Creepy."

My head fell back as I laughed. "Okay, fine."

Her lips tugged up and a smile spread across her face. She hopped up on the counter, swung her legs around, and leaned in to me. She leaned in and kissed my cheek softly; she took my hand and slid off.

"Come on," she said, "we've got a lot to do."

* * *

We found Quinn and Rachel again an hour later, but they had decided to leave.

"Thank you, Brittany," Rachel said. "This was actually very fun."

"Of course it was," Brittany said.

And they left.

Brittany said nothing as she started to walk again, but I followed. We walked all the way back to the entrance, and then to the left. We stopped at a small shed. Brittany pulled a key from her pocket and used it on the padlock.

"Your bike?" I asked when I saw it inside.

"Yup." She pocketed the key, and the lock. She pulled the bike out and asked, "You wanna drive?"

"No way," I declined. Not after last time.

She swung a leg over and sat. "Hold the gate for me?" I nodded and walked over. She started the bike and slowly drove through; I followed her out.

"Get on," she said.

"What?"

"We're going for a ride."

Reluctantly, I climbed on behind her, and, at her request, wrapped my arms around her waist.

She took off, fast.

* * *

We stopped in front of a big, concrete structure. It had chunks missing, random uprooted slabs of concrete, and I couldn't tell what it used to be. Brittany turned off the bike and slid off, then spun around to offer me her hand. We looked around a little, and then wandered to the left side.

Brittany said we were going up, and the top was taller than her, so she asked if I wanted help. To avoid making a fool of myself, I said yes. She boosted me up, and then followed by gripping the edge and climbing up the wall. She made it look way too easy.

The roof sloped down some, so I settled against the wall. Brittany didn't waste much time sitting next to me and making herself comfortable.

"That serial killer thing could be legit," I said.

"You think so?" she asked.

"Definitely," I confirmed. "You brought me out to the middle of nowhere, then when our friends leave you take me even farther. I mean, it totally makes sense. And it'd clear up why you waste your time with me—easy target."

"But they know we're out here. How could I get away with it?"

"You're smart, you could just make up some story. Besides, who would ever believe you were capable of murder?"

"Do I look capable of murder?"

"No—that's the point!"

She laughed, and I laughed in return.

When we calmed, she said, "There are a lot of reasons I spend time with you, Santana Marie; and I never consider it wasted."

I didn't know what to say.

But she did. "'There are a million important things to do. But none as important as lying here next to you,'" she whispered, "Iain Thomas."

There, in the middle of nowhere, I felt closer to Brittany than ever; I felt closer to Brittany than anyone else. For as long as I'd known everyone else—friends, family—they couldn't compare to her. She was on a completely different level from anyone else I'd ever had in my life.

* * *

Brittany's arm brushed against me just before her fingers filled the spaces between mine.

It was one of those things that caused me to shiver; it was such a shock I almost jerked away. I only twitched, however, and she tilted her head my way. She didn't speak, but her face asked _is this okay?_

I responded with a sheepish smile.

"Do you know the constellations?"

"What?"

She motioned to the sky with her free hand.

"Oh, kind of."

"I don't. Not really. I love to learn about them, but I can never remember."

I searched the sky quickly, and then pointed up at what I found. I faltered for a moment when I realized I had lifted both of our hands, but forced myself to speak when I felt a squeeze. "Right there—that's the big dipper."

She shuffled closer. "I don't see it."

I readjusted our hands. "See that star?" I asked. She nodded against my shoulder and I moved our hands again. "And that one?" When she nodded again, I moved our hands to each star.

"Oh! I see it!"

I glanced over at her before I noticed how close she was. Instead of moving, though, I stared. And then Brittany was looking back. I dropped our hands and she moved her other to my cheek. Her thumb brushed against it in the silence.

"We should get back." I nodded and she sat up, turned to the wall. "San?" she said, looking back.

"Huh?"

"I like you too much to murder you."

* * *

I didn't want to think about the bad—the hate I knew would cloud over me. I wanted to stay with Brittany; I wanted to hold on to everything she made me feel.

So after we climbed down from the building, after we got back on the bike, after we were back in her dads truck, I asked her to stay the night with me.

"Okay," she said.

She drove back to my house and parked behind my car. We went upstairs and got changed silently before climbing into my bed. Brittany curled up behind me, throwing an arm over my waist. I held my breath, and then relaxed into the comfort.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry for the wait, and I'm sorry for the shortness and possible bad-quality of this chapter.**


	13. Closer

Brittany was smiling at me, and I didn't know why. My eyes were drooping; my mind was still clouded with sleep.

At the sound of a muffled giggle, my eyes snapped open.

I stared, fighting to keep my eyes open. Finally, I asked, "What?"

Her lips twitched; she bit her bottom one. She moved her hand from under the covers and held a mini black sharpie between us and I was suddenly more awake. "What did you do?"

Her lip slowly slid from between her teeth as her grin enlarged. "I couldn't resist..."

I sat up. She rolled onto her back, still smiling at me. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a dark spot on my arm; there were four little hearts drawn on my skin.

"You drew on me," I muttered.

She nodded before rolling back onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow. I just stared at my arm. Until I noticed her hand, that is. She was playing with the hem of my shirt. I looked at her curiously, and when her finger tickled the skin underneath I looked down. My face scrunched in confusion as I watched her hand; when her whole hand slid onto the skin of my belly, my breath hitched.

"Britt?" Her eyes flickered up to mine, but then we both focused back on her hand. I almost forgot how to breath as I watched my shirt begin to lift—

"Brittany!" I squealed.

She dragged her hand away and laughed, leaving me to gape down at my skin.

"_I wish I'd done everything on Earth with you."_

—_ F. Scott Fitzgerald_

It was sharpie, it was her writing, it was written on me.

"Don't be mad," she said, nuzzling into the side of my leg.

With a burst of confidence, I rolled over on top of her. "What—Santana! What are you doing!?"

One hand was trapped between us, the other hand gripped my waist. She tried to shove me off, but I clung to her and she laughed.

"Give me the sharpie!" I demanded. I wriggled around on top of her, and she laughed harder and shook her head. "Britt!"

And then I saw it on the bed next to us. She noticed; she wrapped her legs around me and I laughed. I snatched it before she could stop me and sat up, grinning down at her triumphantly. I pulled off the cap and discarded it carelessly before leaning down. Her hand shot up and gripped my wrist. We struggled for a moment, with me pointing the sharpie at her face and her holding me back.

Suddenly, she released her grip. Her other hand broke free and both hands shot up and cupped my cheeks; she pulled me straight to her lips.

I froze for a moment, and then my arm fell heedlessly to the bed and I focused on kissing back.

* * *

Brittany spent the whole day with me. I didn't bother to wash away her drawings, and, even after we noticed it, she didn't attempt to remove the scribbles on her ear. We went to dinner with my mom, and she spent another night with me.

We spent the next day with Quinn. Surprisingly, there was no Rachel; but it was obvious Quinn missed her. At first, it was mostly Brittany and Quinn talking. Brittany wouldn't let me get away with that. She forced me into the conversation, and it made the rest of the day easy.

The day after that was spent with Mike and Artie. There were a few hours at the park, and even more at The Lima Bean. There was a lot of dancing, but I couldn't convince myself to join; I didn't mind watching.

On Friday, Quinn invited us to go on the annual church cabin trip. Brittany though it sounded fun, so we said yes.

* * *

Since we were going away for a week, and Brittany had already spent four nights with me, her parents thought she should spend a few days at home.

It hurt more than it should when she left.

I was mostly bored at first, but late Saturday night I was sinking to stage #2. It manifested to stage #3 early Sunday morning, but settled back into stage #2 after a call from Brittany.

I got next to no sleep that night, anxious for it to be Monday already. Brittany showed up early; we ate breakfast and a few hours later Quinn was there to pick us up.

* * *

I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but with the comfort of being next to Brittany—and the lack of sleep— it was almost impossible not to drift off. I didn't fully wake up until the van was parked and Brittany was whispering in my ear to wake up.

"Come on," Quinn said as soon as Brittany managed to drag me onto my feet. "We need to go get our room before anyone else tries to claim it." She started walking off without us, Rachel by her side, but then Brittany took my pinky and pulled me forward.

I caught sight of the trees, the tables in the large foyer, the stairs and doors and then we were in a small room. I heard some bags thud against the wood floor as I looked around; the roof slanted up on each side, the walls were blank, and there was one window straight ahead, covered with white curtains.

"We had to rush in here just to get the smallest room?" I blurted, not realizing anyone else was talking.

Brittany giggled and Rachel gave me a disapproving glance—which I'm sure was from me interrupting her rather than what I actually said—but Quinn was the only one to speak. "It's the attic room," she said, like it explained everything. "Plus, we have our own bathroom."

I shrugged. I didn't really care, as long as I was with Brittany. So I took a better look around the small space, only just realizing—

"There are only three beds," Rachel said. One to the left, one to the right, and one in front of the window.

Quinn opened her mouth, but I heard Brittany's voice instead; "Santana and I can share."

Quinn frowned, and it was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," Brittany said. "It's not a big deal."

I stared at the beds; they weren't huge.

"Perfect!" Rachel said, so loud it made me jump. "I'll take this bed here," she decided, moving her bags to the left of the room. Quinn took the one on the right, claiming _the one by the window is a little bigger_ and I looked at Brittany.

"Do you wanna go grab our stuff, San?" she asked.

"Okay," I agreed.

* * *

We each got a drawer of the little dresser in our room—except Rachel, who somehow got two—to put all of our clothes into, and it took about an hour for us to get most of our clothes sorted. Brittany didn't see the point in moving her clothes from a bag to a drawer, so she opted to just leave them, but Rachel was quick to argue; Brittany finally gave in—just to get her to stop talking—and I offered to help. Quinn and Rachel decided to head down without out us; Rachel wore a satisfied smile as they left us in the room to finish unpacking.

"I understand why you don't like her sometimes," Brittany said when the coast was clear.

I laughed as I reached down for some more of her clothes. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

"I like her most of the time," Brittany admitted, throwing some socks into her drawer from across the room, "I just don't like it when she talks to me like that."

I turned away from the dresser, tilting my head as I faced Brittany, wondering when Rachel _didn't _talk like that.

Brittany shrugged, her eyes flickering away. I narrowed my eyes at her; Brittany was one of the most confident people I'd ever known, and it was odd to see her nervous. It wasn't something I saw often, and I hated that she always knew everything about me yet most of the time I had trouble figuring her out.

"It's just—she says it like she knows better than me, always," she clarified.

I bit my lip, and my eyebrows furrowed, and "I'd listen to you over her any day."

She smiled, and I smiled back wider; it was just a smile—if you can call a Brittany smile "just a smile"—but it gave me the best feeling. I felt like I had done something right.

I twisted back to the dresser and pulled out one of the upper drawers. I felt Brittany by my side and glanced over, only to see her face scrunch up; I almost laughed, but then I looked back to the drawer and—"Gross."

I shoved the drawer back into place and Brittany and I both busted out in giggles with Rachel's underwear rightfully hidden from our view. I tried again and opened the top drawer; it was safe, so I reached in and scattered the clothes. I closed it slowly and turned back to Brittany.

She had this smile—her perfect smile—and all I could offer back was my less appealing nervous one. My heart rate sped even faster when she leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss. I stared, trying to conceal my wide eyes and prevent a cough from the air escaping my lungs.

I did cough, though—mixed with awkwardly trying to regulate my breathing—and forced myself to say, "We should finish," gesturing toward the clothes left in her bag.

She nodded and turned to the bag; I stepped forward to help, but stopped when I noticed all that was left was a pile of underwear. Brittany scooped them up and dropped them into her drawer before closing it.

We were almost out the door when Brittany said a soft "Thank you."

* * *

The multitude of voices hit our ears as soon as we reached the stairs; everyone was crowded around the tables, talking and grabbing at materials, too busy in what they were doing to notice our arrival.

We stood back, unable to get close enough to really figure out what was happening. After about ten minutes Judy spotted us and cheerfully explained that it was craft day, and everyone was decorating shirts or bees—or both—and we could help ourselves to anything.

We were among the oldest—aside from the adults—and there weren't many other teens, so the crafts were directed toward the younger kids. I decided to just hang back and watch. Brittany seemed eager to get involved, however, so I followed her closer to the tables. I tried to get by with simply helping her, but she slapped my hand away and told me _make your own!_

I picked out a wooden bee cut out and painted a standard black and yellow bee; I took a rectangular magnet from the pile and glued it to the back. I held my drying bee for ten minutes, watching Brittany finish her own. She painted it blue and red, and she glued on eyes, and she gave it a little smile. She glued a wooden stick to the back, she told me _I made it for my sister's garden._

We put our bees together on the drying table and then went to pick out a shirt. They were all pink.

My face scrunched up at the sight of them. "I don't wear pink," I said.

Brittany smiled, and she shrugged, and she leaned forward. She grabbed a shirt and then left me at the table. I glanced at the shirts, and then I followed empty handed. She picked her shirt up from the table when I was back at her side, hiding it from me.

She looked at me. "Hi," she said.

I looked at the shirt, I asked her, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making a shirt," she said.

"A secret shirt?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's for you."

I glanced at the shirt. I turned and walked back to the table with the shirts.

* * *

I wasn't good at art, not really. I wasn't good at presents, either. Which was why trying to make Brittany a Brittany-worthy shirt was a horrible idea. It was even worse being in the same room with her. Unlike with the bees, she wasn't ignoring me—in fact, I could feel her eyes on me from across the room every few seconds.

It was driving me crazy; I could almost hear it: _you're doing a terrible job_. But then I'd look up, and I'd catch her eyes, and there was that smile and it was—something, completely opposite. I felt like an idiot; Brittany would never say, or even think something like that.

After a while I left the room. I only got as far as the hallway, because I didn't know where else to go. I stared at the shirt, cursing my equally blank mind.

When I heard someone coming around the corner, I thought it was Brittany; I snatched the shirt up from the floor and crumpled it into my lap. It wasn't Brittany. It was a little boy, and he was staring at me.

Belatedly, I said, "Hi."

He looked nervous; he mumbled back _hello_. I looked around the room, I looked at my lap; I was horrible with kids. I saw him move from the corner of my eye and I glanced up; he was holding his legs together with him arms hanging awkwardly to his side.

He looked scared when he looked at me again. He asked, "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"Um," he slowly moved his hand in front of him, "no." He sniffled and looked down. "Do you—do you want me to help you find it?"

He nodded slowly. I grabbed the shirt from my lap, flinging it over my shoulder as I stood up. His head was tilted back, looking up at me; I couldn't help but smile as I turned to walk down the hall, hoping he would follow.

He did.

I opened three doors before I finally find a bathroom, and he was dancing by the time we found it. He rushed in and I closed the door as he pulled his pants down.

I stood outside the door, unsure if I was supposed to or not. I jumped when he opened the door, but then he smiled and I felt slightly better. He seemed less nervous, too.

"Thanks," he told me, and I nodded.

The discomfort came back as we stood there and I wished he was still nervous, so I wouldn't be the only one being weird. He was just a little boy, and I was still being a dumbass.

I thought about just walking away, retreating back to Brittany, but then he spoke.

"Did you make a shirt?"

I drew my eyebrows together in confusion, but then I remembered the shirt hanging over my shoulder.

"Uh, trying to," I mumbled.

"I made one," he told me. "But I can't wear it until tomorrow when it's dry."

"That's cool," I said.

"I drew a dinosaur on mine. What's on yours?"

I dragged the shirt off my shoulder and unfolded it. "Nothing, it's still blank."

"Oh." He stared at the shirt. "Why?"

"I don't know what to put on it," I grumbled.

"Draw something you like," he said, like it was simple.

"I'm making it for my friend," I said, like _it's not that simple_.

"What does she like?"

"Uh... dancing?"

"Draw that."

"Draw—what?"

He started to reply, but then there was a distant "Alex!" and his head snapped toward the sound. "That's my mommy," he said.

"I think she's looking for you."

"Probly," he said with a shrug. "Bye!"

He jogged down the hallway and disappeared in the direction we came. I returned to my spot and laid the shirt back in front of me; I thought about how to draw dancing.

* * *

I returned all the materials I'd taken earlier and found Brittany in the same spot as earlier. I tried to peek at her shirt, but she was already shielding it from my view.

I shuffled over to her, but she didn't look up until I said, "BrittBritt?" She smiled.

"Making any progress?" she asked, like she knew how much trouble I was having.

"Uh-huh. So, uh, what's—what's a good quote to use?"

Her unyielding gaze made me jittery; I looked away a few times, but she never did.

"'When we are whom we are meant to be, we will set the world ablaze,'" she gave me. "Teresa of Avila."

I repeated it in my head once, twice, but—"No, for... for you."

Her head tilted slightly, and she smiled slowly. She didn't stop looking at me, and I couldn't stop looking back.

The silence was longer, but, "'Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish,'" she said. "Hermann Hesse."

"Thanks," I said, trying to repeat the words in my head. I tried to leave, but as soon as my back was to her, "Santana?"

I stopped, turned back. "Huh?"

"Stop peeking at my shirt," she said.

I frowned, and the words jumbled in my head. She laughed and shook her head, her attention returning to the shirt in front of her. I went back to the hall, trying to straighten the words out.

How the hell did she remember so many words?

* * *

As soon as I finished my shirt, I stashed it away in my room—or in the bathroom over the curtain rod, actually—and then found my way back to Brittany.

"There you are," she said, smiling at me as I walked into the room.

"Hi," I said back.

"I finished your shirt," she said.

"Me too."

"Do you wanna see it?"

"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes.

She laughed and turned around to get the shirt from the table. Across the front, among random designs, in her familiar script was:

"_To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."_

—_ Brandi Snyder_

I smiled at the words, and then I smiled at her. She held out the shirt and I accepted it gladly.

(It didn't occur to me until later what the words actually meant.)

"Where's mine?" she asked.

"You'll see it later," I told her, and her face fell into a pout.

"That's not fair," she protested. I said nothing in return. "Fine. If I don't get my shirt, we have to go outside and see what everyone else is doing."

I folded my shirt as she stood up; she hooked her pinky around mine and I groaned as she led me to the porch.

* * *

There were three different tables ready when we sat down for an early dinner: one for the adults, one for the kids, and one for the teenagers. There were only about 15 people, including adults, that were at the cabin, so when the little boy from earlier waved at me from his table, it wasn't hard to spot him. I was surprised, but I gave him a smile and a small wave back.

Brittany was the only one to notice. She was watching me when I looked back her way, but she didn't ask. She just smiled and asked me how much lasagna I wanted.

* * *

After dinner I pulled Brittany aside; when I led her toward the stairs she asked, "Am I getting my shirt now?"

It was pointless to say anything, because she already knew, but I said _maybe_ anyway.

She waited for me to pull it down, but took it zealously when I held it out.

"I'm not good at art," I tried, but trailed off as I watched her stare at the stick figure ballerina I took too long drawing. When she flipped it to the back, to the quote she gave me earlier, and still said nothing I wished I hadn't made it.

"Santana," she said. I looked up slowly, and she was smiling. There was something in her eyes, too—something I didn't understand yet. "I love it."

My eyes flickered to her fingers, tightly gripped onto the shirt. I stumbled back when she stepped forward, when she crashed her lips against mine. I grabbed at her shirt, at anything I could reach, and lost myself in her kiss.

* * *

Lights out was early. It was mostly for the kids, because Quinn's mom told us we could stay up longer if we wanted—as long as we didn't make a lot of noise.

We disappeared into our room like everyone else, we took turns in the bathroom, and then we sat on our beds. Small talk filled the room for about an hour, until 10:02 when Rachel said it was getting late and that she needed to get her sleep. She "suggested" that we sleep too.

And we did, because there wasn't much else we could do.

We turned off the light, and Quinn and Rachel settled into their beds; Brittany crawled into ours first, with her back to the window, and I slipped in next to her.

I listened to the sounds of the woods for a while.

I tried to ignore the fact that Brittany was next to me.

It worked, in a way, until I felt her fingers against my palm. My fingers twitched, and I just knew she smiled.

When she whispered "I think they're asleep" close to my ear, I tilted my head to look at her. She held my eyes as I looked at her, and the silence felt right; and then I heard shuffling from behind me.

I waited for any signs of Quinn or Rachel being awake, but there were none. I shifted onto my side; I asked, "Isn't this weird?"

Brittany licked her lips. She slid her hand to the space between us and she whispered, "Is what weird?"

"That we're... in bed... together," I answered.

"We always sleep like this."

"But not... not with other people around."

She smiled, the one she always seemed to have when I was being awkward. "We're only sleeping, Santana Marie."

"Still...," I muttered. Her hand somehow made it to my cheek, soothed against my jaw, and I relaxed.

"Your mom's seen us a bunch of times."

My eyes snapped open. "_What?_"

Brittany shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "She checks on you in the morning, so."

I gaped, and her hand slipped to my neck. She pressed her lips against mine gently; she told me to turn around.

"But—"

"Shh... it's time to sleep now."

"Britt—"

"Turn around."

I pouted without meaning to; she pulled away, smiling like she was holding in a laugh. I rolled onto my other side, and as soon as I was still, her front was pressing to my back and her arm was slipping over my hip.

She kissed the spot below my ear; she murmured, "Night, San."

* * *

The next day we were woken up early to go on a hike. It took the whole day.

The day after that was a free day, because everyone was so tired. It was calm for most of the morning and I managed to sleep most of it away, but then lunch came around and Brittany was standing on the bed.

The bed bounced lightly, and I faintly heard her telling me to wake up.

I didn't, though.

"I'm gonna jump on you," she warned, and the bed started rocking more. I groaned; her weight disappeared but before I could be grateful she was gone, the bed dipped and my head bounced up and smacked back into the mattress.

I heard her laugh as the bed bounced more rapidly, and my body lifted. I let out an _umph _as my back reunited with the sheets and the bouncing slowed. "I warned you," she said.

I clenched my eyes and swiped at her blindly, struggling to make any progress as she continued to bounce about. And then I felt my arm hit something, and the bed stilled, and there was a thud.

"Britt?" I said.

There was nothing but silence; I jumped up. I peered over the edge and met Brittany's eyes from where she was sitting up on the floor. There was a pause, and then—

She started laughing.

* * *

Shortly after lunch, Brittany coaxed me into a game of hide-and-seek with all the kids. She convinced Quinn and Rachel to join, too, and Quinn was declared _it_.

She started counting and Brittany grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the front of the house. She wriggled into the space between a tree and a bush, and then looked back, urging me to join her. I tried to object, but as soon as I heard footsteps I jumped forward.

She smiled when I was close, and then pulled me closer. Instead of pulling back, or looking around, she slipped her arms farther around me and hugged me, her chin resting on my shoulder.

I didn't understand why it was happening, but I wasn't going to deny it, so I leaned into her and rested my head against hers.

"You don't mind sharing your hiding spot?" I asked after a while.

Brittany ran a hand down my back, adjusted her head on my shoulder. "Not with you," she murmured, breathing onto my neck.

I shuffled on spot, ghosting my hands up to find her hips. Just as they did, however, a branch snapped behind me. I froze; Brittany calmly tilted her head to look over my shoulder.

"Hi," a small voice said. Brittany released me and I turned to face the person—who turned out to be Alex.

A smile flashed across his face when he noticed me and he didn't hesitate to push himself into the nonexistent space left in front of Brittany and I. "I couldn't find a place to hide," he explained to me.

I nodded, and then I felt Brittany's chin perch back onto my shoulder. His eyes shifted to her.

"Hi," she said sweetly.

"Hello," he said, shy like the first time he said anything to me.

"What's your name?" she asked.

His eyes drifted to mine for a moment. "Alex."

"I'm Brittany," she said. "How do you know Santana?"

"She helped me find the bathroom."

"That was nice of her."

"Uh-huh." He nodded eagerly. "By the way, you're it."

Brittany laughed, and before I could say anything he was giggling and running off.

"Well then," she said. "Since you're _it_, I am going to leave."

"What?" I twirled around. "I can't be it!"

"But you are," she said matter-of-factly. "Now be a good sport and start counting."

I wanted to object, to get out of it, but she was already backing away and turning around.

"Santana?" she called over her shoulder. I looked at her expectantly. "I'll be waiting for you."

* * *

That night we all gather around the den; Mrs. Bailey—the wife of the priest at Quinn's church—read from the bible, and talked to the kids about God. She had them read sections, and then the night ended with Quinn reading them a story.

Rachel stayed to help clean up, Brittany got volunteered to help Quinn with getting everyone to their rooms and I sneaked off to get in the bathroom before anyone else could. Rachel had been hogging the bathroom every morning and every night, and I was tired of not being able to enter the bathroom without being rushed out.

I was barely in the shower for five minutes when there was a knock.

"Wait your turn!" I yelled out.

"It _is _my turn, Santana!" Rachel argued. When I didn't reply, there was another knock.I massaged shampoo into my hair, trying to block the talking outside the door.

"Santana?" came a few minutes later, and I paused. "I gotta pee," Brittany said.

"Uh..." My voice was masked by the water; I cleared my throat and said, "Come in?"

A second later, I heard the door click open, and then watched through the curtain as Brittany stepped in and closed the door, shutting Rachel out. My skin prickled, and I knew she couldn't see me, but my arms instinctively crossed over my chest. I followed the blur of her figure through the thin material shielding me away; my eyes darted to the ground when she pulled at her pants, and I turned too quickly and lost my balance.

I caught myself but knocked the bottles of conditioner and body wash off the shelf in the process; I cringed as one bottle _clunked_ against the floor and muttered _shit _when the other landed on my foot.

My heart jumped when I heard Brittany laugh.

"Thanks," she said, and left the room.

* * *

By Thursday night, I had discovered a new stage.

I woke up early to the sound of the rain, and it took me a few moments to consider the warmth next to me. It was Brittany, of course.

I was on my back, on her side of the bed, and without thinking about it I rolled onto my side and curled into her. I was on my way back to sleep when I felt her fingers in my hair.

"Morning," she said, like every other morning.

I muttered something like _Mornin' _back, but I don't think it came out right. I had a feeling she smiled.

I started to notice little sounds from somewhere close. I was comfortable and I didn't want to move, but I was curious; I opened my eyes and lifted my head and in Brittany's hand was my phone. The first thing I thought about was the fact that there was no service.

I watched until my neck started to feel strained, and then I sat up and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Playing a game," she said.

"On my phone?" I questioned, glancing to the dresser where her phone was.

"Yup."

I smiled at her without asking anything else.

Sometime after dinner we pulled out an old TV and VCR and searched through the stack of movies. We took a vote and ended up watching Oliver and Company.

By the end of the movie half of the kids were asleep, and we had the fun of waking them up and escorting them to their rooms. Quinn and Rachel were taking care of most of them, but as I was about to ask Brittany if she was ready to go to our room, a little hand gripped onto mine.

"Can you tuck me into bed, Sa'tana?" Alex asked.

I glanced over to Brittany and caught her goofy grin before telling him _okay_.

He led me to his room, where his mother was waiting; I tucked him in nervously while she watched and then made a quick escape back to Brittany.

She suggested another movie. We cuddled on the couch, watching something I had never seen before, and somewhere along the way I fell asleep—or we fell asleep, with Brittany settled comfortably on top of me.

It was a little past 1:00A.M. when I woke up according to the clock on the wall. It was odd lying there like that, with Brittany's weight pressing down on me as she slept. The glow from the fuzzy screen was the only light there was, just enough to see blonde hair and the way Brittany lifted with each of her breaths. It wasn't long before I felt my breaths sync with hers, and the rise of my chest was moving with her.

It startled me when her breathing changed, when it changed its course from mine. Brittany shifted, and she lifted herself on her elbows, and she smiled down at me. My heart didn't know whether to slow down or speed up.

She didn't say anything; she lowered her head and kissed me softly. The transition was a blur, because the next thing I knew she was kissing me crazy.

It was just like most nights of the past two weeks—with a whole lot more making out—and it felt perfect. I couldn't think of a time in my life I had been happier. With her, surrounded by nothing but her, I felt nothing but bliss.

And so came the stage of bliss.

* * *

A lot happened on Friday.

Saturday would be our last day, so there was a lot to do. Mrs. Bailey had Quinn and Rachel help all the kids _tidy_ their rooms and Brittany and I gather the laundry while she and the other adults prepared dinner and snacks.

I didn't mind chores all that much in the company of Brittany.

* * *

After dinner we headed up the trail across the street. We only walked a quarter of the way to an area set up for a campfire. Alex's mom, who I still hadn't learned the name of, and a few others built up the fire while Judy and Mrs. Bailey set out graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows.

Brittany and I had a few s'mores each, and I expected Brittany to go for more after I'd stopped but she didn't. She was smiling and watching everyone move around, but she was sitting still except for the bounce of her knee. She seemed anxious; I finally turned to ask her, but before I could get a word out she took my arm and pulled me toward the trees.

We started back down the trail without a word to the others. Brittany was giggling, and her jubilance was too infectious to ignore. She skipped and we twirled as we crossed the dirt road to the house; Brittany snatched the key from the threshold of the front door and let us in, returned it and pushed me forward. I wasn't far ahead of her when she jogged up behind me and grabbed my hand, immediately pulling me forward and up the stairs.

Things got slower when we were in our room, the door blocking out the rest of the world.

I was across the room and she was still by the door; I was suddenly nervous. She smiled at me softly, she stepped closer and I stopped breathing.

She didn't stop until she was in front of me, close enough to kiss. She paused, just long enough to look at me, and then she was kissing me. It took me a minute to respond.

She pushed herself closer, pushed me back toward the bed. It was slower than most kisses throughout the week, but it was one of the most passionate we'd ever shared. Just as I'd fully given in, her hand cupped my jaw and she pulled away.

This was even more difficult than usual; we were close _and _making eye contact. But she didn't give me a chance to look away, because she asked me _Is this okay? _without saying the words, and with abrupt clarity I knew what was happening.

And the thing about Brittany was that she made me calm like no one else, but it was all but cancelled out by how nervous she made me. So I stared, and she brushed her thumb over my hip and waited.

I kissed her.

It was faster than before, rougher; I was rushing but I didn't know why. Her arms wrapped around me and she gave me a squeeze, slowed me down; I pulled away to breathe.

"'Your lips are like wine, and I want to get drunk,'" she whispered. She smiled against my lips. "William Shakespeare."

She held me close, and I moved my hands to the back of her neck as we kissed. I could never get enough of her.

I didn't realize I was sitting on the bed until Brittany was pulling away. The bed dipped on each side of me as she planted her knees there and settled onto my lap. I watched her apprehensively, but then she lifted her shirt and pulled it over her head and my eyes darted away.

I gasped when her lips pressed to the skin above my collarbone. Her hand gently touched the hidden side of my face, she turned my head to look at her. "Santana," she said, and I nodded.

I let her take my shirt off. She dropped it beside the bed and pecked my lips before trailing down to my neck. I was panting when she stood up. My eyes followed her hands as they unzipped her pants, pushed them down her legs; I watched her eyes as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my sweats and took them off.

She pushed me back gently until I was lying the length of the bed before straddling my hips. My eyes clenched tighter with every new inch of skin lowering to meet mine.

She breathed onto my lips, she caressed my heated cheek; my muscles began to relax, I opened my eyes.

The kissing itself was terrifying, but then—the touching; I wasn't sure I could handle it. My skin blazed everywhere she touched it.

My breathing was rapid by the time she unclasped my bra. I could see my chest moving quickly, and it only accelerated my breathing; I covered myself protectively.

Brittany dropped the bra somewhere on the bed. She covered my arm slowly, smoothing her hands down to mine. Her hands pulled at my arms carefully; I let her move them to my sides.

When she kissed me I felt less exposed. When she kissed near my breast I felt scared.

"Brittany," I croaked. It was getting harder to breathe.

She looked up, and then she pulled back. "What's wrong?"

My eyes flickered down, I shook my head. She looked at me for a moment, and then she rested her forehead on my chest.

"San," she said, so, so sweet.

"They're horrible," I said. I felt her breathe out against me, followed by a kiss to the side of my breast.

"They're _perfect_," she argued.

"They're uneven," I revealed, trying to cover myself.

Brittany caught my arms, she held my wrists against the bed. She pressed her lips to the middle of my chest, she slowly kissed up to my neck and back to my breast.

"Perfect," she mumbled, followed by a kiss. "Perfect," she repeated; another kiss. "Perfect." And another. "Perfect."

* * *

Brittany's hand traveled down my leg, up the inside of it. My fingers clenched around the sheets when it stopped between my thighs.

I concentrated on my breathing as she kissed me, touched me.

I gasped.

I held my breath.

I caught any sound before it could escape.

I froze every muscle so I wouldn't make a mistake.

I was so afraid to move, so afraid to touch. Would she stop? Would she finally realize what she was doing? Would she look at me and see all my flaw?

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

I swallowed.

I fisted the sheets; I let out a whimper.

* * *

There was something special about being next to Brittany when she slept.

It was something else entirely when she was naked.

The familiar dent in my bed was nothing compared to the new comfort of her skin; the warmth of my covers was nothing to the heat of her body.

Wanting to be with Brittany and actually being with Brittany were different. I could dream safely, but could I really deal with this?

* * *

The thought of separating from Brittany was so unappealing I almost stayed, but the restlessness forced me from our bed. I slipped in some clean clothes and went out the door.

I sat on the last step, resting my head on my knees.

I had forgotten the others would return until someone sat next to me. I lifted my head slowly.

"Hi," Alex said.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Are you sad?" he asked.

"No, I..."

What was I?

"I'm..." I gulped. "I'm scared."

His eyes widened. "Did you see a monster?"

I felt the tears push to get out. I laughed.

"I fought a monster," I said.

He gasped and scooted closer. "Really?"

I nodded. "I won."

He smiled, but it disappeared quickly. "Then why are you scared?"

"I'm afraid it'll come back," I said. "Maybe I didn't really beat it."

"You got it to go away, didn't you?" he asked, and I confirmed. "Then you can do it again."

* * *

We woke up early on Saturday, and we had breakfast, and we piled into the van and left.

* * *

**A/N: Is anyone interested in being a beta? (If you are, send me a pm or message me on tumblr.)**

**baconbreadstix: Thank you, I'm glad I'm not doing too horrible with this.**

**I hadn't thought about that before, but I'll do some research and see what I can find.**


	14. Part 3: Battling Monsters

My Sunday wasted away with sleep.

I slept in hour intervals, waking up each hour and then lying there until I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up at lunchtime I simply rolled to my other side and forced myself back to sleep.

I only got out of bed when my mom woke me up for dinner.

My phone blinked from the floor, and I stared at it for a moment before reaching down. I found a text from Brittany.

_Morning, Santana Marie_

I stared at the words even longer, until I heard a call from downstairs; my phone dropped to my bed and I went to get dinner.

* * *

It's not that I didn't like spending time with them, but it was pretty rare for me to sit down and watch TV with my mom and Antonio. After dinner, though, I followed them into the living room and sat down in my chair.

Antonio stared at me for a while—eyes wide, mouth open, head tilted—until I finally smiled at shook my head at him.

"You're not sick, are you?" he asked, sitting back and turning on the TV.

I told him _no_, I told him to _get on with it_, and my mom laughed, and he picked one of his recordings.

My smile fell as soon as their attention was away. I watched as long as I could, but something twisted in my stomach, and I wriggled in my seat, and I left at the sting in my eyes.

Antonio asked if was coming back, and I threw back a _no_ before I went up the stairs. I went into the bathroom and took a shower; I sank down into the bath.

I did odd things to get out of being alone, to be stuck in my head, even if they never really worked. Because all I could think in my room was _Brittany_, and all I could think in my dreams was _Brittany_, and all I could think during dinner was _Brittany_, and all I could think in front of the TV was _Brittany_, and all I could think beneath the the steaming water was _Brittany_.

And all I could think was _I can't_.

(I would not let myself cry.)

* * *

At 11:00 PM, as I lay in bed, I received a goodnight text.

* * *

I woke up at 11:54 AM on Monday. Stage #2 came quickly—rushed in and soaked into my mind, unrelenting.

I lay in bed for an hour—or more, perhaps—and my eyes fluctuated between opened and closed while my mind flickered from _did she leave me a text? _to _is she mad I haven't responded _to _does she care? _to _did I imagine it? _to _did she mean it?_

I wanted nothing but sleep, yet I didn't want that either.

There was a text from her. I read it once and sat my phone aside.

At some point later, my phone went off; Brittany was calling. I only stared until it stopped, and then clenched my eyes shut and burrowed into the covers.

* * *

**BrittBritt: **_Night Santana Marie_

* * *

**BrittBritt: **_Mornin Santana Marie_

* * *

_1 missed call_

* * *

My bladder forced me from my bed on Tuesday afternoon and before I could make it back my mom lured me to the kitchen with food. I blanked as I ate—the food was enough to distract me.

It was all back as soon as the food was gone, and sleep would not work, because I awoke too soon, or I saw her face when I closed my eyes, or my dreams filled with _Brittany _and _Brittany _and _Brittany_.

The sun could not set fast enough, but as soon as it did I was out the door.

I ran.

I ran with everything I had.

I ran without stopping.

I tried to run away, but you can't run away from the things in your head.

* * *

I didn't mean to end up there—I almost never do—but I found myself there anyway, dragging my feet across the dirt.

My legs pulsed with fatigue, but I didn't stop; I followed the track, I traced the impressions.

Had Brittany been there lately?

Did this place mean something more to her, too?

(Did her feet drag her here without her notice?)

My shoes skid across the dirt, and the rocks tumbled under me, and the breeze didn't help at all.

A large rock caught, and it didn't roll, and I didn't stand; I flipped onto my back and I stayed on the ground.

If she were there, would she treat me sweet, and would she care for my wounds, and would I let her?

(I would not let myself cry.)

* * *

_2 missed calls_

_1 new voicemail_

"_Hey, San... Give me a call if you're up for it... Kay, bye... [click]"_

* * *

I almost wished for stage #4; this constancy of stage #2 was getting to be too much. It was worse than ever before—stronger, never ending.

I felt lonely; I felt empty.

Being away from Brittany made me miserable. I grew uneasy at the prospect of seeing her, however, nauseous at being near her, and the fear outweighed it all.

_Then you can do it again._

But I didn't think I could.

I could only do nothing, I could only let myself suffer.

(I would not let myself cry.)

* * *

I was watching a random movie on TV when I felt a buzz beneath my head. I had been expecting it—waiting for it, even—but I nearly choked when I finally read it.

**BrittBritt: **_You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lessen my affection for you. All efforts to save me from you will fail._

I should have expected it—a quote, at least—but I hadn't. I was stuck on goodmorning and goodnight and questions and questions and questions.

_-John Green_

It was more; it was always more.

* * *

Quinn showed up at my house on Friday—with Rachel.

"What should we do?"

"Wake her up."

"Yes, but how—"

"What the fuck?" were the first words out of my mouth.

Rachel jumped and Quinn rolled her eyes, reeling her extended arm back. I sat up, letting my cover slump down to my hips.

"What are you doing in my room?" I grumbled, running my hand across the sheets in search of my phone.

"Your mother let us in," Rachel said.

There was no text. Was that her last? Was she done, until I could get myself together and give back?

I was selfish; I needed to see it, but I couldn't respond to it.

"We just wanted to drop by and see what you're up to," Quinn said. "Maybe we can hang out or something."

Rachel nodded, and then, "Quinn, don't forget the—"

"Right!" Quinn reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here."

I snatched it from her fingers and then shrugged in apology. "I didn't look at it," Quinn said.

I unfolded it cautiously, up, over. Just by a glance, I knew it wasn't from them. Their stares felt heavier as I read; I drew the paper closer to my chest.

_I desire to be with you. I miss you. I feel lonely when I can't see you. I am obsessed with you, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. I hunger for your taste, your smell, the feel of your soul touching mine._

_-Jack Llawayllyn_

"Santana?"

My eyes flew to Rachel; I grasped the paper tighter, folded it up quick as if I could hide it away and make it nonexistent to them.

Rachel gave me a little smile, and my brow creased, and I said, "Let me get dressed."

My eyes flickered to my nightstand before I walked out slowly, leaving them in my room.

* * *

"Where are we going?" I asked. I didn't want to go anywhere.

"I don't know," Quinn said, "I was thinking we should throw a party tonight."

I stopped at the end of the stairs. I didn't want to say no.

"And that means now we have the afternoon to set up," Rachel added.

Quinn and Rachel stepped off the last step and we continued toward the office, stopping to let my mom know that I was leaving before we went out the door.

* * *

I sat in the backseat of Quinn's car while she drove and Rachel talked next to her. The grass and the trees and the sky all blurred through the window, and the voices circulated through the car—through me—not like I didn't exist, like when I was sitting in the truck with my mom and Antonio, but like I was being ignored, or simply not significant enough to speak to.

I didn't know which was worse.

I followed behind them into the lake restaurant, only slightly paying attention as Rachel suggested things and Quinn responded. We were ordering food for the party.

The bed and breakfast close to full, so, instead, we drove up to the park on the hill.

"Setting up" consisted of putting paper plates, plastic cups, and drinks on one of the tables.

"Who's coming to this thing?" I asked.

"Mostly everyone," Quinn said.

_Brittany? _I asked myself. _Brittany? _I wanted to ask aloud. _Brittany? _I could not say.

"Brittany has informed me she won't be able to make it tonight," Rachel said, like she knew. "She... has family affairs, I believe."

I nodded. I did not look at her.

They went to get the food after that. I stayed on the bench; I watched the car drive away, and then I closed my eyes.

I was relieved—or I wasn't, because _Brittany_. I wanted to see her, I needed to see her, I _couldn't _see her.

* * *

Kurt and Mercedes were the first to arrive. They parked and walked up beside me without me even knowing, and then—

"What a lively party," Kurt said. My eyes opened.

"That girl never knows how to throw a party," Mercedes said.

"Did you expect anything different?" I muttered.

"Speak of the devil," Kurt said before turning to greet Quinn and Rachel.

Just as we'd unloaded all the food, Mike and Tina showed up. Artie was the last person I noticed arrive.

There was something that lifted in me when Artie sat next to me after getting himself a drink. I thought _maybe_, but as we talked, as we caught up, it was awkward—like acquaintances instead of old friends—and then he wandered away.

I sat by myself.

I had that feeling again, the one where I no longer belonged there with them.

And I could feel myself splitting, fading into something else. More than ever, I felt as if there were separate me's.

It was like when I was alone I was one me,

and then with Brittany I was this other me—the best me—

and with family another,

and with friends another.

The me sitting there was tired. I did not want to try.

* * *

I had began stargazing at some point—for who knows how long—and then Rachel showed up.

"Hello Santana," she said.

I sighed.

"Is it alright if I sit with you?"

She was already moving to sit, but I gave a small nod.

"I understand that I may not be the first person you wish to talk to, but I'm still here, Santana. Anytime you need someone to talk to—"

"I'm fine."

Rachel smiled and shifted her hands over her lap. "Of course. I merely wanted to have a small chat, and remind you that you have a friend in me." I opened my mouth, but she continued, "And I know it's not my place, but I saw that—"

"PUCKZILLA HAS COME TO SAVE THE PARTY!" Puck shouted. "I HAVE ALCOHOL!"

"Noah!" Rachel was on her feet within seconds. "If you'll excuse me, Santana," she huffed, walking off quickly.

I caught Puck looking at me from across the crowd. He winked and then clambered through the mass of people, away from Rachel, and I was left motionless.

_I saw that—note?_

Had she really seen it, and understood what it meant?

I felt invaded, and I felt crazy, and I thought _no_.

It was _wrong_. How could she?

I think it was Mike, I think he said something, but all I registered was the beer that found its way into my hand. I sipped and looked at the stars and tried to keep myself from thinking.

* * *

It was hard to keep myself from remembering Brittany, and the track, and the stars. But every time the thoughts would from, I cut them off and left my mind blank. I stared up aimlessly, ignoring the sounds around me.

I didn't look away when the bench shook beneath me from the person that plopped down next to me.

I didn't look away when Puck said, "Hey there."

I didn't look away when Puck leaned over.

I felt his fingers against my hand, and my eyes snapped to him as he tried to take the can from me.

"Relax," he laughed. "You're empty, I brought a replacement." He wiggled the unopened can in his hand and tugged at the empty one in mine. I let him swap them.

I opened the can and took a sip before returning to the stars.

"How's it going?" he asked.

I took another sip.

"Aw, c'mon, San. You can't be mad at me forever can ya?"

I almost wanted to laugh at the whine in his voice. Instead, I said, "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" he said.

"Nah."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nu-uhh." I tried to wave him off, forgetting the drink in my hand. I spilled the liquid all over his shoulder.

He scowled, and looked at me seriously, and said, "I'll get you for that."

I jumped up. "No!"

He followed slowly. "Yes."

I stepped back and stumbled over nothing, but Puck laughed and caught me before I could fall.

Once I was steady, he pulled back one of his hands and pointed to his shoulder. "Look at this mess," he said with an attempt at a pout, "don't you feel sorry for me?"

A smile forced its way onto my face and I tried to hide a laugh. "Nope."

"Whatever," he said. "You still owe me."

"Well what do you want?"

"Take a walk with me."

"That's lame," I said, but started to walk anyway.

* * *

We started down the hill, walking side by side and swaying into each other. Puck was laughing, and I was trying not to.

"Brittany has the best laugh," I said without thinking.

It was quiet for a moment, and we walked slower, and then Puck pushed his weight into my side.

"You're heavy, stop!" I said, forgetting to catch my laugh and trying not to trip.

Puck laughed, and then we took another ten minutes to make it across the parking lot. I staggered when we hit the sand and clutched onto Puck's shirt, sending us both to the ground.

When I managed to sit up straight, I said, "I might be a lil' tipsy."

Puck shot me a smile. "I think that may be a good thing."

"Is it?" I asked, crawling closer to where he sat in front of the water. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Because you're actually letting go a little."

I looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Whatever."

"You should do it more often," he said. "You're more fun."

"What, drink?"

He shook his head. "Be yourself."

I stopped, and I looked at him.

I recognized him, but I didn't notice him; I had never really noticed anyone besides Brittany. I could picture her face perfectly—her silky blonde hair, the bright blue color of her eyes, the way her lips curved, the shape of her cheeks, the freckles across her skin—and I could remember the sound of her voice clearly.

But I could not close my eyes and get a full picture of anyone else—nor could I close my eyes and actually remember the entirety of Puck's face even as I sat in front of him.

But the longer I looked, and the closer I looked, the more I noticed—like the way his jaw curved, and the lines across his forehead, and the stubble on his chin—he looked so different.

When I breathed in deep, and pulled myself back, he was there. I wasn't sure if it was him, or me, but we were close. So close, the way I loved to be with Brittany.

I didn't think about it, I didn't know what was happening, and he wasn't Brittany, but we were kissing.

He pulled me closer, and I let him, and I kissed him. It was weird, and even though I wished over and over and over that it was Brittany, it was nice.

There was something about it, about him, but it still wasn't right—it wasn't her.

I waited until he pulled away.

"You've definitely improved," he laughed.

"Shut up, asshole," I said, unable to stop a smile. "I'd never kissed anyone before."

"Well I'm glad someone taught you how," he teased.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him over.

"I'm kidding, it wasn't that bad for a first kiss."

"Of course it wasn't," I said. "Now gimme your beer."

"What? Why should I give you my beer!?"

"I don't have one."

"Because you dumped it all over me!"

I leaned over and snatched it from his hand. "Learn to share!"

* * *

When we heard noise behind us, Puck and I got up. The rest of the group had made their way down, and only a few—Rachel and Kurt—were sober. We joined them on the way into the the bed and breakfast.

Kurt offered to drive Mercedes, Blaine and Karofsky home; the rest of us decided to stay. As Kurt ushered his little group back outside, Quinn got the rest of us keys—in pairs.

Mike and Tina got to share a room.

Quinn and Rachel were sharing.

And I got stuck with Puck, of course, which I actually wasn't that upset about.

He took our key from Quinn and led us down the hall to room 6. I walked in first and turned on the light to claim my bed. Except there was only one.

"I'll take the floor," Puck said, and I was a little surprised.

I looked at him again and I smiled.

"No, it's okay," I told him. "We can share."

He pulled of his jacket and threw it to the chair. "You sure?"

"Yeah," I said. I walked around the bed and pulled back the cover before sitting down. I started to take off my shoes.

"Cool," he said.

"Just stay on your side of the bed," I said, turning back to look at him.

He held up his hands. "Of course." And then he reached down to unbutton his pants.

I paused, and then I asked, "What are you doing?"

"Taking my pants off," he said, stepping out of them. "I'm not sleeping with them on."

I stretched my legs out on the bed. "Okay."

I lay back and he turned out the light before slipping in next to me.

* * *

I almost never slept in a dark—or silent—bedroom, because there was too much room for thought.

If not a TV, then music. Hidden away behind a closed door, but protected by light, by sound.

I was not afraid of the dark, but of my mind. My fear came from the unknown, not the absence of light—but within the light there are more things known, and less to be afraid of.

Lost in the sound, there is less to contemplate—more control over your thoughts.

But somehow, in that room, in that bed, next to him, I was almost relaxed.

Maybe it was the way he acted earlier, the way he made it easier—almost like Brittany did.

But then my phone went off.

I was almost asleep, I almost didn't reach for it.

It was a text from Brittany.

_I love you and it's getting worse_, it said.

And I felt guilty.

I don't know if it was for making her deal with me, or not talking to her after the trip, or for Puck, or for everything—but I felt it.

_-Joseph Morris _a few seconds later.

And I felt _guilty_, and I felt _guilty_, and I felt _guilty_.

I could hear my heart beating, and I could feel my eyes burning.

(I would not let myself cry.)

* * *

**I'm sorry for the wait, and the shortness, and... yeah.**

**Also, VerdeGooch, thank you for the almost offer.**


	15. You and Me and All of Them

I was on my stomach, arms tucked in close to my side, half conscious, when I heard someone moving around. I lay there for a moment, not wanting to open my eyes, but when I did I saw the wall and a flash of movement in the corner of my eye.

I lifted my head, turning my neck uncomfortably to see. Puck was walking from the direction of the bathroom.

"Hey," he said, noticing me. "You're up."

I shifted around until I was sitting up. "Yeah."

He sat on the end of the bed and reached for his shoes. After a moment, he told me Quinn stopped by earlier and said we needed to be out by lunchtime—which was 20 minutes from then.

So I went to the bathroom to get ready, and when I got out, he asked, "Hey, do think you could give me a lift? Sam was my ride last night."

I almost told him yes, but, "I got here with Quinn."

"Oh, shit," he said, and I tried to remember if I had seen Sam the night before.

* * *

We got lucky, and Puck caught Mike as he and Tina were about to pull out of their parking spot. Mike agreed to give us a ride home, and said he would have offered had he known we were still there.

We stopped at Puck's house first. He got out, and he said his goodbye's to Mike and Tina before he turned to me.

"Do you wanna come in for a while?" he asked. I considered saying no, but then I would've had to find something else to do, and I figured being with him was better than being alone.

So I followed him out, and we thanked Mike for the ride.

* * *

He took me to a set of stairs that led to a basement, which turned out to be his room. It was messy, like expected, but with a nice setup. The space was large enough for him to have his own mini living room in addition to his bed.

He turned on a lamp and told me to take a seat while he pressed a few buttons on the TV. I tried to ignore the stains, which became a lot easier with the surprising comfort of his couch. I pulled my phone from my pocket, just in case. I half expected her name to be there, waiting, but there was no text.

I sat my phone aside and looked up just as Puck took a seat next me. He leaned over the armrest and reached into what I realized was a mini-fridge, and then pulled back with two water bottles in hand. I accepted the one he handed me and drank some before putting it next to my phone.

I accidentally elbowed the controller he was holding out when I pulled my arm back to my side. I muttered _fuck_, and he laughed and asked me if I wanted to play. I told him I would just watch.

* * *

I didn't know I had fallen asleep, but I woke up to the sounds of gunshots and Puck grumbling to himself. He was hunched forward, staring intently at the screen. I shifted to sit up on the couch without him noticing.

I watched him for a while, noticing more things I had never noticed. It wasn't the same as noticing things about Brittany—every discovery I made about Brittany felt special, and important, and like some of the best things I would ever know—but it was interesting and made me want to know more.

It was like that for a while, longer than I ever managed with Brittany—she would always catch me, or look my way, or smile in that way that told me she knew—and I wished she could be more like this, sometimes, so I could watch, and see, and learn without worry; but then I realized that was part of what made her so wonderful. It was a Brittany thing, and I didn't want to change anything about her.

When Puck started getting louder, bordering yelling, I shifted my focus to the screen. Not a minute later, one of the characters, which I assumed was Puck, fell dead, defeated. He grunted and threw his body back heavily, letting his head rest against the back of the couch. Belatedly, he noticed me.

His head lolled my way, and the miffed look on his face slowly turned light. "Have a good nap?" he asked.

"Uh-hh," I answered.

He laughed, and he asked, "Have you been awake long?"

"Pretty much," I told him, and he said sorry; "I get pretty into it sometimes."

He sat up a little straighter. "You up for a try now?" he asked, already switching the game to 2-player.

My answer was no, of course. I sucked at video games.

"Come _on_, Santana!"

"What?" I said. "I can't do it."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure you can." He held out a controller.

I stared at it with no intention of taking it. "I said no."

"I said yes," he insisted. "Now take it."

"I don't know anything about this game," I complained. "Or any, actually."

"See, this is what I mean. Do I have to pull out a beer to get you to do anything?"

"I don't want a beer," I mumbled.

He chuckled and then said, "Look, it doesn't matter if you're bad at it. I mean, even if you were good I'd dominate your ass."

He nudged my arm with the controller again; I snatched it from him and said, "_Fine_."

He smiled triumphantly and turned back to the TV. He explained the basics as the game loaded.

* * *

I was doing horrible. I had died at least twice, and we had only been playing for less than half an hour. I would be surprised if Puck wasn't starting to regret getting me to play.

Just as I died again, and made us lose completely, my phone went off. I reached for it, and it only took me a second to lift it and see _BrittBritt_ on the screen.

I stared at it.

I considered answering it. I wanted to.

"You gonna get that?" Puck asked, and I jumped.

(I couldn't.)

The ringing stopped, and I laid my phone on the arm of the couch. I breathed in deep and turned to face Puck.

He was giving me a peculiar look; he was watching, waiting for something. I didn't know what.

A beep.

She left a voicemail.

Puck turned away, finally, and said something about playing a quick game.

My eyes stayed fixed on my phone. Eventually, I grabbed it and clicked my voicemail. I entered my password, and the message started:

"_I hope you understand why I keep calling you. I don't want you to be mad at me."_

That was it, but I took comfort in the sound of her voice.

When I pulled the phone away from my ear, without deleting the message, I felt Puck's gaze on me again.

"You two are close, huh?" he said, and I tensed. I didn't answer.

Instead, "It's getting late, I should probably go."

He set his controller aside, and he looked at me, artless. "Santana—don't go, okay? It's none of my business."

I shook my head slightly, said, quietly, "It's not about that." It wasn't a complete lie. "I just think I should get home."

The truth is, he made it easier to deal with being without her. But I couldn't stay forever.

Because, unlike with Brittany, I needed space. I needed space in a way that didn't quite make sense; I didn't want to be alone, really, but I needed to be away. It had been like that since the the move; people exhausted me, and Brittany was the only exception.

He sighed faintly and gave a nod. "Can I give you a ride home?"

"It's a short walk, I'll be fine," I said. "Thanks for today."

"Sure," he said. "Let's do it again sometime?"

I smiled sparingly as I stood from the couch. "We'll see."

* * *

I only lived a few blocks away from Puck, so it really was a short walk; it was somewhat disappointing.

Halfway there, my phone went off and I anticipated something from Brittany, but it was just a text from my mom telling me to be home soon for dinner.

I used the front door, just because it was easier, and I could hear my mom in the kitchen as soon as I walked through the door. I walked back and she was there, reaching onto the oven to add to the copious amount of food already filling the counter.

"Great," she said suddenly, "you're here! Grab the plates and help me set the table, will you?"

I had no time to question it; I walked over to the cabinet, grabbed some plates, and then reached into a drawer for some silverware. I set a place in each space at the table, assuming we were having guests.

"Mikey's coming tonight," my mom said when I reentered the kitchen, which explained the setup. "He's bringing his girlfriend," she added sprightly.

So I helped her carry all the food to the dining room, and then I went upstairs to get ready. I managed to get a quick shower and changed into clean clothes before I heard the door.

"It's lovely to meet you," I heard my mom say as I made my way down.

"You too," said the girl I figured was Mikey's girlfriend. "I've been excited for this night."

"I hope we don't disappoint," my mom said. "You two head on into the dining room; I'm going to go drag Tony away from his work."

"Call if you need backup," Mikey said as she started toward the office. Mom laughed, and the girl smiled at him.

"Hey," he said to me.

"You must be Santana," the girl said before I could reply.

"Yeah," I said. "It's nice to meet you."

* * *

"We're glad you could join us tonight, Sarah," Antonio said.

Sarah smiled and glanced over at Mikey. "Yeah, it took me a while to convince him I would be on my best behavior for the family."

"I was just waiting—" Mikey tried to protest.

But Antonio spoke over him. "We were starting to worry you were a little _fruity_ there, boy!"

Mom's eyes went wide, and she swore, "We did not!"

At the other side of the table Sarah paused, and she didn't know where to look, and Mikey laughed uncomfortably. I stared at my food.

"What?" Antonio said loudly, playfully, like he couldn't understand what he had said wrong. "I didn't say you were! I was just saying, we've never seen you with a girl."

I heard my mom say _Tonio_ under her breath, but he continued, "But now we don't have to worry."

And I thought _you've never seen me with a boy_; and I thought _Brittany_.

Mikey managed to change the subject, Antonio asked Sarah a lot of questions—mainly about work, and future plans—but I didn't pay much attention to the conversations after that.

* * *

After dinner, Mom realized she had blanked on dessert—not that we needed it after all the food she fed us—and Mikey volunteered _us _to go get something. At first, when he said, "It's no big deal, madre. We'll run out and go get something," I thought he meant him and Sarah.

But then he kissed her on the cheek, which practically sent my mom into an overjoyed frenzy, and then told me, "Let's go." I didn't get a lot of time with him, and it was better than staying with everyone else, so I went.

Except he tricked me.

We got in his car, just like we were supposed to, and we even headed to the store to get something for dessert.

And then, "I'm sorry about what he said earlier."

I didn't know what he was talking about right away, but when he added, "Antonio, I mean. He's kind of a douche sometimes."

"You don't have to apologize to me," I said, my voice too weak. "He said it to you, not me."

"I know," he said with a sigh. "But it wasn't right."

I shrugged. "Well we all know you're not, so."

"This isn't about me," he said, looking at me for as long as driving allowed. "And you know it."

"What do you mean?" I said too quickly.

"Do you think I don't notice?" he said, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it before. "Honestly, 'tana, the way you look at her—the way she looks at you?"

The tears welled up quick and I looked away, clenched my eyes closed.

"Mom's gonna be mad if we don't hurry up," I said, not crying.

The rest of the ride was silent. When we finally pulled into the parking lot, he got out but I didn't move.

He walked around to my side and open the door. "You gonna go in?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I'm just gonna wait here."

He nudged my shoulder. "How am I gonna know what to get?"

"Just get something that looks good," I said.

"Alright," he said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

We pulled up next to the curb in front of the house.

He didn't move, so I didn't move.

"I'm here," he said. "I am, anytime you need to talk."

I nodded, but I don't know if he saw.

"We better get inside," he said, opening his door. I followed.

* * *

My mom and Mikey served everyone a slice of cake, and then they sat and talked some more.

I stayed silent, and played with my cake, and no one cared. It was one of those times I was thankful for it, because it was like all at once, everything was happening—and I couldn't take it.

I was itching to get away, but I knew I couldn't without bringing attention to myself. So I waited until Mikey was ready to leave.

And when he was, my mom made me join them at the door.

I conjured up my best smile and said my goodbye's to Mikey and Sarah.

Before I knew what was happening, though, Sarah pulled me into a hug. I waited it out awkwardly until she pulled away. It was odd, because she actually hugged me, and the only person I had really hugged in a long time was Brittany.

I waited as long as I could, until after they were long gone and my mom was distracted with cleaning and Antonio was distracted with work, and then wrote a quick note and left.

* * *

My legs tried to take me to the track again. I caught myself before I got too far.

I thought about Puck—but I couldn't talk to him. Even after everything that happened the night before, I couldn't do it. I couldn't take Mikey's offer, either.

I still felt like I had no one.

I still felt like there was only Brittany, but she wasn't an option.

So I went the only other place I could think of: my dad's.

It seemed so much harder to talk about things those days, perhaps because of all the time that passed without talking, but I thought maybe Eva would have the answers.

When I heard music from down the street, and saw the open door when I reached the house, I had a feeling I was out of luck.

I walked through anyway, and when I saw Carmen among the group of guys I still asked, "Is your mom here?"

I repeated it three times before she told me Eva wasn't there, and that she had gone on a trip with my dad. They weren't due back for a week.

I didn't leave right away. The music lowered and Carmen asked me the usual questions. "How are you?" "Where you been?" "What you been up to?"

And then, "You wanna hit?"

This is where I usually said _no thanks_. This time, however, I paused. I didn't have anything against weed, I just didn't do it.

"Okay," I said.

And she said, "Really?"

I nodded, and she beckoned me to sit next to her. She asked if I had ever smoked before, even though she had asked me a million times before, and I said no. She told me what to do, and then handed over the blunt.

It's not like I had anywhere else to be.

* * *

When someone showed up in the doorway, I didn't pay much attention to them. I figured it was another of Carmen's friends, even though there were already too many in the small living room.

But then I heard her voice.

"Brittany!" someone said, and I looked up.

I only met her eyes for a second before she turned and said, "Hey Stoner Brett."

"Don't you have a friend named Brittany?" Carmen asked me.

"That's her," I said, frowning at Brittany.

"Hi Santana," Brittany said, and then I started to laugh.

I didn't even know why, but then she stepped closer I stopped. She asked if she could sit with me and I said yes.

I didn't know she meant sitting in my lap.

It was quiet for a while, which made the fact that I didn't know where to put my hands even worse. Carmen was the one to break it, and Brittany had no trouble joining the conversations.

I felt every beat of my heart, and listened as it went slower than ever. It was loud, filling my ears to where I almost couldn't hear anything else, and I wondered if Brittany could feel it, or hear it, through the small space between my chest and her back. I wanted her to; I wanted it to envelope us both.

I wanted her, with the _thump thump thump _of my heart, and me, with the _thump thump thump _of hers.

Later, when something pulled me out of my head, I found myself with my hands on her legs and my forehead against the space between her shoulders. It was the comfort I had been craving all week.

It took a moment for me to notice her hand atop mine—the thing that brought me back.

The beat of my heart was no longer so loud and consuming; all I felt was her skin, even as the sounds of everyone else flooded the room.

"Brittany," I said, and I wasn't sure she heard until she tilted her head. She didn't say anything, but I finally asked, "Can we go?"

Brittany's hand shifted until her pinky found mine, and then she pushed up from my lap. She pulled me with her, and we walked through the house to my bedroom without explanation.

She stopped us by my bed and looked at me while I looked at the ground.

She was waiting, but I couldn't get any words out. I didn't know what she wanted to hear.

Like usual, she was the one to say something. "'When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You're seeking something, but as the same time, you are running away for all you're worth.' Haruki Murakami."

I looked up and found her eyes waiting for me. Instead of letting us be lost in silence, she continued. "'She's sitting right in front of me, but at the same time she's a million miles away.' Haruki Murakami."

"Brittany," I said, like it was the only thing I could say.

"'She is so lost in her sadness that she had no idea how visible it is.' David Levithan."

"_Brittany_," I repeated. I needed her to _say _something, because I couldn't say anything.

"'If you had a person in your life treating you the way you treat yourself, you would have gotten rid of them a long time ago.' Cheri Huber."

"Stop!" I yelled. "Will you just stop with the _fucking_ quotes!?"

She dropped my hand. I was trying to catch my breath, and she was trying to hide her shock. But she took a step back, and I hated myself more than ever.

I started to shake my head. "No. I'm—I didn't mean that! I promise I didn't! I love your quoting, I do. It's cute, and it's so you—"

"—Santana—"

"And I love—"

Silence.

Brittany stepped closer.

"I, uhm—" My voice shook as I stumbled over my words.

"I love you," Brittany said softly. I knew it already; she'd told me before. But it was different, and it didn't stop my heart from temporarily forgetting how to work.

I wanted it so much, but I refused to let myself think about it, because I was me, and she was Brittany—it couldn't be real, she couldn't care for me like that. But as she took another step, and put her palm to my cheek, and whispered, "Please don't take it back," I knew she wasn't lying.

I couldn't say it, but I wouldn't deny it; it would be of no use, anyhow—she already knew, and the words would only hurt.

She leaned down and pulled me in for a kiss. I tried to reciprocate, but my lips trembled, and the tears pushed hard until one went over, and flowed down my cheek to the place where our skin met. I felt it turn, and run along my skin as it followed the curve of her hand.

I stepped back, and she asked, "What is it?"

I hadn't thought about it since the night of, but the guilt was back. "Puck," I blurted. "I kissed him."

"Oh," she said. "Did you... is that what you want?"

Her lips curved, signaling the beginning of a pout, her eyebrows were scrunching slightly, and her eyes were wary; she looked like what I imagined I looked like every time I thought of not being with her. It was strange, because as much as I knew, I still found it hard to believe Brittany loved me, of all people, and worried that it could somehow be possible I didn't love her back.

"No," I said. "I just—I'm so fucked up, BrittBritt."

And it was like once I started crying, I couldn't stop. I didn't let myself cry, so when I got weak it all came out.

Brittany pulled me into her arms and I held tight without thinking. This was the last thing I wanted, to be crying like that in front of her.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered.

Brittany pulled back just enough to kiss my cheek. "Don't say sorry, just let it out." She began to rub my back as she whispered, "Cry as long as you need."

"I don't—" I shook my head against her shoulder. "I don't wan-na cry."

But I cried a lot. I cried silently, mostly; it was the last bit of control I had.

Brittany seemed to hesitate, but then she said, "'People cry, not because they're weak. It's because they've been strong for too long.' Johnny Depp." I tightened my grip.

* * *

Somewhere between the uninhibited crying and the gradual calming down, Brittany moved us onto the bed. She was facing me with her back against the wall, and I was practically in her lap, my face still pressed into her shoulder.

When I lifted my head, the only thing I could do was kiss her. And when she kissed back, it was everything I wanted. I needed it—I needed her.

Her hands held my sides and made me secure, her nose brushed mine, our lips overlapped, and I no longer cared about breathing.

But of course it didn't last.

There was an obnoxious laugh from the doorway, and I ripped myself away from Brittany so forcibly I would have ended up on the ground of Brittany hadn't caught me.

"Oh my god," Carmen said, still laughing from her spot in front of us, "I can't believe you eat pussy!"

And then she turned to leave before Brittany or I could say anything—not that I could if I tried.

"Hey," Brittany said as soon as she was out of sight, "calm down." She wrapped her arms around me from the side. "She was fine with it, right? There's nothing to get worked up about."

"But they all know, Brittany!" I cried, struggling against her arms.

"It was only Carmen, and it's not like she'll remember it by tomorrow anyway."

"Puck, though," I complained. "And Mikey, a-and Rachel!"

"They know?" she asked calmly.

"Why do they all know?" I asked desperately.

She released her grip and waited until I turned to face her. She smiled soft, and she said, "Because we can't help it."

* * *

I was being clingy and I knew it, but I just couldn't help myself. It was close to torture being away from Brittany for so long, I just needed to be close.

She didn't seem to have a problem with it.

For what seemed like hours and minute alike, she held me back, and she traced her fingers over my skin, and she whispered sweet things.

And then she kissed my neck, and whispered in my ear, "'Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.' Martin Luther King, Jr."

It was something I thought about a lot, but it wasn't until then I felt the need for an answer. "BrittBritt?"

"Yeah, San?"

"Why do you use quotes?"

Her fingers continued across the skin of my stomach, below my shirt, but she was silent. I figured it wasn't a question she wanted to answer, and I wasn't going to push.

But,

"I use them... because people don't always understand what I say. And I don't always know how to say the things I want to," she said. "Plus I just like them."

I smiled and leaned forward until my lips met hers in a kiss. "Don't stop using them," I said.

She responded with, "'In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.' Isaac Marion."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers again. "You always say the right things, Britt."


	16. I'll Hold Your Hand

I woke up to silence. I didn't think about the night before, or Carmen, or anyone else. I didn't think about the "party" that we left upstairs, and how the front door was probably left wide open all night. All I cared about was Brittany and the way our bodies were pressed together.

The room was full of sunlight spilling in from the window, and it was bizarre to only just be waking up. It was the best sleep I'd gotten since the trip. Curious, I leaned over to grab my jacket—which was actually Brittany's that I still hadn't given back—and dug into the pocket for my phone. A slip of paper of paper came with it, but I ignored it and checked my phone for the time. It was past two, and I thought it was peculiar that Brittany was still asleep even if we were up half the night. It didn't matter, however, so I laid my phone at my side and leaned back into Brittany.

I was caught off guard when I felt her breath against my ear. "Good morning Santana Marie," she whispered.

I rolled onto my side and shifted until my face found comfort in the space between her neck and shoulder. A moment later, she reached over and held my hand.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Her arm that lay beneath me lifted, and her hand rested on my hair. "For what?" she asked, sliding a strand of hair through her fingers.

"Everything," I mumbled. There was so much to be sorry for. "Being stupid last week; being so hard to deal with; and, uhm... Puck."

Brittany squeezed my hand, and she said, softly, "'You are terrifying and strange and beautiful, someone not everyone knows how to love.' Warsan Shire."

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

Brittany pulled me closer, so I was somewhat on top of her, and kissed the side of my head. I sighed and enjoyed the warmth between my lips and her neck.

We lay in silence. My body moved with hers as it raised and fell, slow and steady. I could hear her heartbeat clear; I could feel it like it was against mine.

It startled me when she pulled away; my heartbeat turned nervous, my eyes opened, and my hand tried to follow. My hand found nothing, but hers found me. She touched my cheek gently, and I tilted my head back.

Her lips touched mine like a whisper, just enough to feel.

I wanted to object when she started to get up, but I didn't. She detached herself slowly, and then paused. She looked down at me and smiled, her lips curved soft and her eyes gleaming.

My skin prickled from her gentle hand down my arm, but she kept my eyes locked on hers.

"You want anything?" she asked.

I shook my head. She lingered on the edge before pushing off and leaving the room. I watched the doorway idly, and then I blinked, and I moved onto the space Brittany had left. The warmth settled into me, and I missed her.

* * *

She returned quickly, even though it didn't seem quick enough. She scrambled onto the bed with a blithesome smile and a drink in hand. She settled with her back against the wall and laid her legs over mine.

We stayed mute, but I enjoyed the silence and the way her bottom lip pressed to the glass as she drank carefully and looked back at me.

"Was the door open?" I asked languidly.

Her leg moved against mine and I glanced down. "I actually woke up and shut it earlier," she said.

"Oh."

Brittany smiled easily, and then, "What's this?"

I touched my chin to my chest to peer down at what she was reaching for. She picked up the slightly crumpled paper and I stared at it hard, my body tensing and a knot forming in my stomach.

She read the words under her breath, and I was only able to make out a few, not that I really needed to—I remembered what it said. I watched her lips form the words, and the knot unraveled, the apprehension slipped away, and my heart felt light and full as she finished _the feel of your soul touching mine_.

Her eyes lifted straight to mine; the corner of her mouth lifted.

"That's how Rachel knows," I mumbled.

At first, she looked confused, but then she frowned a little and said, "They said they wouldn't read it."

"Yeah, well, it's Rachel."

Brittany shrugged in an I'm-sorry-but-I-promise-it'll-be-okay way. "That's why I gave it to Quinn."

I shrugged, too.

"So," she said after a moment, "what do you wanna do today?"

"I just want to spend the day with you," I confessed.

Brittany lifted her glass, hiding her smile behind it, and then said, "Okay."

* * *

As soon I was in fresh clothes, Brittany took me by the arm and practically dragged me through the house and out the door.

I should have known it was useless, but, "Where are we going?"

"Get in the car, San," Brittany said.

I walked around Brittany's car at the same time she leaned over to push the door open. She smiled at me, and then moved back into her seat and buckled herself in. I got in and shut the door.

When we pulled out onto the main road I said, "Really, you're doing this again?"

Brittany kept her eyes on the road. "Surprises are fun."

"Not really," I mumbled, knowing with Brittany planning it, I would almost certainly like it.

"Santana Marie, do you trust me?"

"Of course," I said.

She kept her eyes forward and said nothing else, so neither did I.

For some reason, I was expecting someone else to join us—probably because I didn't want to be disappointed if it wasn't just us—but as we reached the edge of town and took the exit out, I knew no one was. I felt relieved in a way; Brittany was all I wanted, she was all I needed.

* * *

We were still on the highway after an hour. I still didn't know where we were going.

"Britt," I almost whined. "Why can't you just tell me?"

She glanced over, and then her hand settled on top of mine. "Santana," she said, her voice firm yet soft in a way I'd never heard before. She pulled our hands to rest on the center console. Her voice lost its firmness and she squeezed my hand. "Just relax."

I wanted to say something, but I seemed to have forgotten all the words in my head. So I sat, silent, watching the side of her face. When the corner of her lips quirked, I knew she knew that I was watching, but I couldn't look away.

Despite the nerves tangling inside me, and the gathering sweat on my palm, I watched and I felt—and I relaxed.

* * *

By hour two, not much had changed—we were still on the road, Brittany still hadn't told me anything, and our hands were still between us, fingers twisting and untwisting agreeably. The only big difference was the volume of the music, now turned low and in the background of serene conversation.

I was no longer anxious about not knowing, I was thrilled to just be with Brittany. My only bother was the accumulation of sweat on my hand and that Brittany wouldn't allow me to pull away to get rid of it.

But then I looked out the window and spotted a sign.

_Detroit 10_

I turned back to Brittany and opened my mouth to ask how far she was taking me—

and then I closed it and looked at our hands, back to the road.

* * *

About twenty minutes after we took the exit, and finally made a stop, we were in a Walmart parking lot.

I couldn't help but say, "Walmart?"

Brittany laughed and gave me a nod. She glanced around the parking lot before looking back at me. "Are you ready to go in?"

The question didn't quite make sense; she asked it like it was something important, and I was sure walking into Walmart wasn't—but I brushed it off and said, "Okay."

Brittany smiled exuberantly, and I couldn't figure out what she was so excited about it, but the way she smiled made my heart swell, and I felt somewhat giddy.

Brittany reached for her door, but her other hand lingered with mine; I took the chance to pull mine away and wipe it on my jeans. She got out and I followed only to realize, as I fell back by her side, that I couldn't reach over and take her hand again. My shoulders fell slightly, but I glanced over and she still looked happy, so I smiled.

"Did you seriously bring me to another state just so we could go to Walmart?" I asked.

Brittany bumped my side, and her wrist brushed mine. "Something like that," she said.

"So secretive," I mumbled, and Brittany giggled.

Just as we'd reached the door, my breath caught—Brittany's hand caught mine, her fingers holding the edge of my palm and her thumb brushing my wrist. "Hold my hand," she said, her voice low; it was partly a question, but more like a command.

When I didn't, she looked at me. There was only a small trace of her smile.

Her hand fell away from mine and we stopped just inside the sliding doors. "Hold my hand, Santana." Her voice was soft.

"Brittany..."

She stepped closer. "We're in another state, remember? No one knows us here."

I nodded, but the door opened and I watched as a group of people flooded in. Brittany stepped back, but she grabbed my shirt and pulled me with her; we both sat on the bench against the wall. She turned to face me and put a hand on my knee.

"Names don't matter today," she said. "We're just you and me, and we're here, and we're whatever we want to be."

I put my hand next to hers, just close enough to touch, and looked at her. Her gaze held mine, calm and steady.

"I don't understand," I said, my voice weak and uneven. The doors opened, and my eyes flickered over to watch the people flooding in and out.

"'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth,'" she said. "Oscar Wilde."

She rubbed my knee, brushing her hand back against mine at the same time. "Is that okay?"

"I—okay."

She stood up and offered her hand; my hand shook as I took it.

Our hands fell back to the space between us, and Brittany slipped her fingers between mine just as we reached the second sliding door. I tightened my grip as we walked through and into the store.

* * *

We took a right, straight past the aisles and through another sliding door into the plant area. Brittany weaved us through to look at all the different flowers and trees and every other kind of plants Walmart has. We paused, and Brittany took a closer look at some, but we didn't say a word. By the time we were greeted by a rush of air as we reentered the building, I felt like I hadn't seen anything except her.

As we passed aisles filled with tools and shower heads and car mats and paint, some crowded with people and some empty, I was unaware of my increasingly tight grip on Brittany's hand. When we turned into the toy aisle and I felt her thumb soothe against my skin, like _relax_, I stopped.

I instantly released my grip, and my hand lay limp in her gentle hold. I stepped forward, and we walked, and she wouldn't let me pull away. She moved her fingers around mine slowly, playfully, and we made our way into the next aisle of glass cases and video games.

* * *

More people seemed to appear in the clothes section. My eyes traced the tiles before us and I felt my fingers gradually press into Brittany's skin. The shuffling feet captured my attention, and my mind conjured their faces, staring our way, watching us walking through the store, burning holes through our interlaced fingers. I squeezed twice before Brittany squeezed back and I managed to ease off my hold.

It was a short walk to the food from there, but it felt like forever.

And by the time we made it to the end wall of freezers, we were walking so close that our hands could no longer swing. I liked watching them, the motion between us, but I liked walking like this, close, and feeling her better.

We turned left, and then around into another aisle, and I felt myself begin to unbend.

Down the second freezer aisle, I noticed I had goosebumps covering my arms; I wasn't sure if they were from the cool air or Brittany.

* * *

We exited the store with nothing in our hands except for each other's. We kept our pace as we set off into the parking lot, and I paid no attention to the people around us.

At the end of the row, with no sign of Brittany's car, we stopped. Brittany looked right and I looked left.

"San," Brittany said slowly, "where did we park?"

A car passed in front of us, our shoulders brushed, and I felt the corner of my lips tug up.

We stood idly for a minute. It was an oddly comfortable situation and my smile wouldn't stop growing.

When Brittany started to laugh I tightened my hand, just slightly, and tugged her to the left—my smile stretched all the way across my face. "Come on, I think it's this way."

We walked over three rows with no luck. Brittany was pressed into my side, giggling into my neck.

I paused, standing between rows, and asked, "You did this on purpose didn't you?"

Brittany lifted her head to my shoulder and looked up. "No! I don't remember where it is, I've been too distracted." I chuckled nervously, trying to ignore the way her lips were so close, and the way her words were spoken onto my skin.

I was standing stiff, fighting back a shiver, and then her chin left my shoulder and her lips touched my cheek. "Let's try the other way," she said, leading me back to the right. The shiver rushed through me, and I smiled shyly at her back.

* * *

The car was parked one row to the right of where we'd first walked out, halfway down.

We stopped just behind it; Brittany looked to our hands, lifted them, kissed the back of mine, and then slowly let go. I turned and walked to the passenger side as she walked to the other.

My hands occupied themselves in my lap as we pulled out onto the street.

"Are you hungry?" Brittany asked.

I looked up and out at the buildings, restaurants and fast-food places scattered here and there. "A little," I said, and she responded by telling me to pick a place—a restaurant.

I picked one at random since Brittany wouldn't help me choose.

* * *

We were seated at the back of the restaurant near a window. We sat and looked over our menus without talking until our waitress came to take our drink orders.

She came back with our drinks and then left with the menus and our orders.

My eyes lifted from the table when I felt Brittany touch my hand. She didn't take it, not completely, but she drifted her fingers over mine, and her eyes waited for mine. I looked up cautiously, and found warmth; I began to smile slowly as she played with my fingers.

I almost protested when she pulled away, but then someone was stepping up to the table, and food was placed in front of us. I swallowed, and Brittany thanked the waitress before she walked off.

I took my first bite of food after Brittany had taken hers. I scanned the area around us; the place was pretty empty, with only four or five tables filled—a family, some friends, two teenagers. My eyes wandered back to Brittany, but then, as she caught me and smiled, brushing hair behind her ear, I snapped back to the boy and the girl sitting across the room. I could only really see the girl, because the guy was sitting with his back to me, and she looked nervous, and excited, and—they were on a date.

I could feel my heart, beating in that nervous uncomfortable way as I looked back at Brittany, wide-eyed and edgy. Her head tilted, just slightly, but she made no attempt to speak.

I said the words, in my head. I felt like my jaw was locked; my mouth would not comply to _open_; I could not speak.

But I stopped, I opened my mouth.

Nothing; I closed it; and then,

I asked, my voice shaking, "Is this a date?"

Brittany was calm; she said, with a smile, "Do you want it to be?"

My eyes flickered to the date happening across the room; there was money being placed on the table; they were leaving.

Brittany had not looked away from me. Patient as always, she showed no sign of wanting me to rush.

Another minute, and a deep breath, and I tried, "Yes." It was so quiet I almost couldn't hear it, so I nodded, and she smiled.

"Okay," she said, and my heart thumped in a different, excited, this-is-a-date way.

I smiled a weak and twitchy smile; Brittany reached out and ran her thumb across my knuckles, soothing and sweet.

* * *

Back in the car, back on the road, it was dark. I didn't know where we were going, I hadn't thought about it.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Brittany asked, out of nowhere, and I remembered; we weren't in town, it wasn't this easy.

I watched everything move outside the window and got lost, for a minute, before I considered her question. I didn't want to leave Brittany, I knew that for sure; but there was something about being in her house that made me nervous.

We stopped at a red light and Brittany looked at me. "Just you and me," she said, "don't worry about anything else," because she always seemed to know.

I looked over, nervous, and nodded. She smiled sweet and the light turned green.

* * *

She didn't say anything else until we pulled off the road again and into a parking lot. It took me a moment to notice that it was a hotel. _Oh_.

"Do you want to come in?"

I played it out in my head—us getting out of the car, walking into the building—and then I thought of sitting there, waiting, watching her through the glass. I went back and forth, over thinking, but she waited patiently.

When I reached out for the handle, she opened her door.

I felt anxious as we stepped up to the front desk, and the clerk asked, "How can I help you tonight, ladies?"

My heart was too loud, too quick; my legs felt weak; I felt agitated with the feeling of shakiness; I was too nervous for something like this—why was I so nervous?

Brittany's voice was distant, and the clerk's was lost completely, and I almost didn't notice the way my hand bounced off Brittany's, but—

Her fingers brushed mine, and tapped against my skin. My hand shook as I straightened my fingers, opened my hand, but in the next second I felt Brittany's hand, warm and tender, slide into mine, and I felt steady.

My eyes focused, and the words became clear.

Brittany asked for a room, and a queen bed, and she handed over her license and debit card.

We got two room cards for room 240 on the second floor.

* * *

We went into the room without turning anything on. Brittany simply closed the door, and then she was kissing me; it was tender yet needy at the same time, and she didn't hold back. I didn't have the time to think it over, and I was more than happy to reciprocate, to kiss back the way it felt like she'd wanted me to all day.

Brittany sat on the bed and I followed. My upper lip got lost between hers, and my teeth grazed her bottom one as I pushed closer.

Her hands met my cheeks and she held me there; it took me moment, as her breath flowed over my already heated face, to become conscious of my own need to breathe.

I took in air quickly—her air—until we were both back to normal, or as normal as I could be with being so close to Brittany. My heartbeat continued irregularly, in the she's-so-fucking-close and I-just-fucking-kissed-her and she-just-fucking-kissed-me holy shit way, as she breathed my air and I breathed hers.

It was weird, but so perfect I found myself smiling.

When her hand moved, it was slow; she dragged it down like a caress, and then her head tilted and she kissed my cheek, just below my eye and right next to my nose.

I felt so much I didn't understand that I whimpered.

I dropped my head to her shoulder in embarrassment. Unsurprisingly, she giggled. It was the best kind of giggle, though, the kind that reminded me Brittany didn't judge; I didn't have to worry around her (but I couldn't help that I always would, at least a little).

I was practically in her lap already, but I moved closer, even more on top of her. When she slipped her arms around me and held me there, I knew she was smiling.

There was something about about the security her arms provided that reminded me of when I was younger and I would climb into my mother's lap and then everything was better.

"You know we still need to talk, right?" Brittany said softly, and I was so lost in the comfort of her that the words didn't even register in my head.

But then they slowly began to sink in, and my eyes snapped open; my body tensed and I stared wide at the sheets.

"We already did," I tried, my voice lost again.

Her hand smoothed over my back gently, lovingly, like she knew it would help keep me calm. "You know what I mean; a serious talk."

"Brittany," I said, starting to sit up. Brittany reluctantly let me, and I looked forward into the dark. "I—" I shook my head, once, and tried to shift farther away. "I don't want to talk. Not now."

I needed to get away, I needed to run, I needed water, I needed—

"Stay," she said.

Her.

She took my arm and pulled me back lightly; I sat in front of her, barely able to see her face by the sliver of light through the curtains.

"I understand—sort of. I know... I know you're struggling, Santana," she said. "And it's okay."

"Britt—"

"You don't have to talk just yet," she said, still soft. "I'll talk." She leaned forward, and she touched her lips to mine; we held there for a moment, and then she pulled back.

She brushed some hair behind my left ear and then tapped the side of my head. "'Tell the negative committee that meets inside your head to sit down and shut up.' Ann Bradford."

(It only went away for her.)

She sighed, and she said, "I'm trying to help. I wish I could do everything and just make it all go away; I wish I could make you see how amazing you are; but I can't. All I can do is be here for you. Do you understand what I mean?"

I nodded, but—"How can I like myself when there's nothing to like?"

"Oh, honey," she said, so soft, so fond, "there is _so _much to like."

I didn't want to argue; I knew what she thought, as hard as it was to believe, and I knew what I felt. I only looked at my knees and shrugged.

"'If you can't see anything beautiful about yourself, get a better mirror. Look a little closer, just stare a little longer.' Shane Koyczan."

"But it's not—" I started, too loud, and then quieter, "I can't—"

A few seconds passed before Brittany's hand touched my knee and, "You can't what?"

I felt a tear push over and trickle down my cheek. "I can't do that." My voice cracked. "I can't... look at myself without—without seeing how _horrible _I am."

Her fingers curled around my arm, and when I looked up—

I lifted my free hand up to her cheek, I ran my thumb under her eye, and feeling it made it worse. I reeled my hand back into a fist and buried it in my lap. I thought the worst thing was Brittany seeing my cry, but this, making her cry, was worse.

"Don't," she said, and I was just about convinced she could read my mind.

"I'm so scared, Britt."

"What are you scared of?" she asked.

"I don't know; being happy, I think... you..."

"Me?"

I shrugged.

"How am I making you scared, Santana?"

"I don't know how to be happy, and you're... I can't... I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," she said confidently.

"But I don't deserve you," I mumbled.

Her hands went back to my face and she pulled me in. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met, Santana. I can't get you out of my head, not since that first day, and I don't even want to. You deserve me—completely. You deserve me and I deserve you."

She wiped my face before I could.

"I can't be everything for you, though—not the way you're trying to make me." She looked at me, eyes sad and loving. "I'll do everything I can, and I won't stop, but you have to try too. Santana, you _have _to."

I could feel my heart in my hands, pressed tightly to my knees. "What do you mean?"

"'I think it's very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person.' Oscar Wilde."

I got that feeling in my chest, like falling. "You—don't want to be with me?"

Brittany shook her head. "I always want to be with you, Santana Marie; but I need to help you, too, and I think it might be good if you spent some time alone."

And I didn't understand, because when I spent time alone (which I really didn't want to do again) she came to me.

"I don't mean like before," she added, "I don't want you to shut me out—I can't handle it—but maybe we can be apart physically for a bit."

"Okay," I said, not certain I really liked that idea.

* * *

We lay in the dark, my body partially on top of hers and my head resting on her shoulder, and I never knew I wanted it so much until then.

I watched my breath, and I waited, and I said, "Can you say it again?"

She didn't say _what_, she didn't take it back; she said, "I love you."

The words went through me in a wave of heat, and I shivered.


End file.
